


Bodyguard

by lilyseyes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: '', F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-28
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 06:31:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 71,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1847947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyseyes/pseuds/lilyseyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being exposed as a spy, Snape is assigned 'babysitting' duties for Harry. Written pre-HBP</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Bodyguard

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by asimplechord  
> Harry Potter belongs to JKR - no money is mad from these works, they are for entertainment value only

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story was written and posted in 2005 - it needs a major overhaul, whenever I can find time - I'll just have to apologize about the POV switches in advance!

* * *

Sitting on the Hogwarts Express, a dejected sixteen-year-old Harry Potter stared out at the passing scenery with unseeing eyes. His body still ached from injuries inflicted on it by the Dark Lord’s latest attempt to kill him. Awoken in the middle of the night by a painful vision of the Potions master, Severus Snape, being tortured as a traitor by Voldemort and the Death Eaters, Harry had snapped. He had vowed to himself when Sirius died that no one else he cared about was going to be lost to the snake-faced bastard. Snape might not have been on the list of his loved ones, but he was a valued member of the Order of the Phoenix, and his torture could not continue. Grabbing his invisibility cloak, stopping only long enough to wake Ron and send him to the Headmaster with the news, Harry ran from the sleeping castle. Concentrating on the images in his mind, Harry had Apparated to the familiar dilapidated Riddle Manor, the scene of several prior encounters with the Dark Lord.

Harry had managed, once again, to best Voldemort in a duel, with the circle of Death Eaters unwittingly helping by casting wild curses at him. Grabbing the unconscious former Death Eater, Harry had just enough energy to Apparate them both back to the edge of the protective wards of Hogwarts near the Forbidden Forest, where Hagrid had found them. Both wizards had spent the last week of the term in the hospital wing, under the glaring eye of Madam Pomfrey. Both the Headmaster and Professor Snape had lectured Harry on the foolishness of the risk he had taken, which Harry chose to ignore.

This morning, as the thestral-drawn carriages had pulled up in front of the main Entrance to the school, Harry had learned his punishment for saving the Potions master’s life. Albus Dumbledore pulled him aside to inform him that a member of the Order of the Phoenix would be arriving at Privet Drive as his bodyguard for the summer; this was necessary, Dumbledore said, to prevent any of the thoughtless, dangerous adventures to which he was so prone. With the increase in Death Eater activities in the area around Surrey, as well as Harry’s tendency to wander the neighborhood, the Headmaster felt the extra precautions were needed. A feeling of foreboding threatened to engulf him as Harry’s worse fears were confirmed; his bodyguard was none other than his most hated professor, Severus Snape.

Having compromised his position in Voldemort’s inner circle, and still recovering from the injuries he himself had suffered, the Potions master was not able to assist in normal Order business. Now that his name was second only to Harry’s on Voldemort’s death list, the house and wards that surrounded Privet Drive provided the safest place for the both of them outside of Hogwarts itself. An owl had been sent that morning to the Dursleys to advise them of the situation, which Harry knew would make his uncle absolutely livid. The raven-haired teenager sighed heavily; his summer was looking bleaker than ever.

* * *

Severus Snape stepped silently into the quiet house at Number Four Privet Drive and peered cautiously around the excessively clean kitchen. Throwing off the invisibility cloak he wore, Snape draped it over the bag he was carrying and made his way through the unfamiliar muggle home, glancing at the rooms in interest. The brat’s relatives were no doubt still at King’s Cross retrieving him from the train. The Potions Master was not supposed to arrive for several days, but had secured an early release from the Hospital wing and left early to escape the clutches of the infernal medi-witch.

Moving from the kitchen into a hallway, the man hesitated for a moment as he walked past a small cupboard set in the wall under the staircase, wondering why it seemed vaguely familiar. Shaking his head, he stepped around the landing and into the sitting room. A mirror set above the hearth caught his attention as it reflected the image of a tall, slender, dark-haired boy of seventeen. Thinking that Potter’s muggle relatives would be less likely to object to the presence of a teenager than an adult wizard, Severus had been directed by the Headmaster to brew an age-decreasing potion that temporarily took almost twenty years off his physical age. Poppy Pomfrey had encouraged the idea, knowing that a teenage body would heal faster than his own thirty-six year old one. 

Moving steadily through the room, the Potions Master smirked as he thought of the brat’s reaction to his altered appearance. He needed to check the residence and be hidden in the boy’s room before the family returned, although he was sure they would stop for a celebratory meal to welcome their young hero home from school. Bits of memories worried the back of his mind, flashes of hurt and pain that he associated with various things in the house came inadvertently into his brain, a by-product of the Occlumency training he had suffered through with the Boy-Who-bloody-Lived.

Glancing around, Severus noticed an abundance of pictures decorating the walls and available shelf space through out the home, all featuring a rather large, heavy-set blond boy about the same age as Potter. In assorted settings, the boy was shown with an enormous blond man who could only be the father, and a tall thin, horse-faced woman, which he assumed to be the mother. He stopped and carefully examined one of the unmoving pictures, unwilling to believe that this cold looking woman had been the sister of Lily Evans. Lily with her flowing auburn hair, sparkling emerald green eyes, and warm, laughing nature, who had befriended him when no one else would, despite his continued efforts to be nasty to her. The beautiful girl who had passed on to her only child, her son Harry, her beautiful eyes and loving nature, her loyalty and courage, he reflected.

Surveying the room again, it dawned on the wizard that there was not a single picture of that son anywhere in evidence. For the savior of the wizarding world, Severus would have thought there would be an equal amount of adulation present in the room, but there seemed to be no evidence that the boy even lived here. Again, images of a small, thin, dark-haired boy thrown in a cupboard under the stairs popped into his mind, a four- or five-year-old scrubbing floors and struggling to cook meals, and standing in the background as a pudgy blond boy ripped through a mountain of presents. Shrugging off the thoughts, he made his way up the stairs to the rooms above.

Examining the area, he found a nice sized bathroom, a huge master suite decorated with large roses, and an equally large bedroom filled with toys and muggle electronics, which Severus knew had to belong to the small blond whale. Another similarly sized bedroom with a dusty air and impersonal feel seemed to be a guest room. Walking back towards the landing with a feeling of dread, Severus stopped in front of a door that had several locking devices on it, all of which locked from the outside, and some sort of animal door in the center of the bottom panel. He had originally taken the door to be one leading to a storage closet; now, with a sinking feeling, he undid the locks with a wave of his wand and stepped inside.

The dusty, dirty room had a musty smell to it, and the Potions Master wrinkled his nose as he looked around the small space. A small cot-like bed was pushed against one wall, a wardrobe with a broken handle was pushed against another, while the third wall was lined with shelves that seemed to house an astonishing array of broken toys and haphazardly piled books. A small, spindly desk stood underneath the shelves. A drawing of a snowy owl and a tiny Gryffindor Quidditch pennant adorned the front of the wardrobe, identifying the room as belonging to one Harry Potter.

Putting his bag down next to the wardrobe, the black-clad teenager swept the room with his eyes once more. The Headmaster had told him of these muggles' hatred of magic, and he had been told to keep its use to a minimum as well. It would not due to have his magical signature identified in the vicinity of Potter’s home. Nevertheless, Severus was damned if he was going to spend the next two months in this room without a few adjustments. Casting a cleaning charm over the room at large, windows, curtains, and spelling clean sheets on to the bed, he added an enlargement charm to the small cot. The wardrobe was also spelled larger inside, with the Potions master fortifying the small desk, and transfiguring a broken toy into a comfortable leather armchair. 

A noise downstairs caught his attention, and the tall teenager quietly set his bag inside the wardrobe, and settled in the armchair that sat along the wall opposite the door. He draped the invisibility cloak over himself as he listened to what sounded like dull thuds. A few minutes later there was a series of loud footsteps on the stairs and what sounded like something being drug. The bedroom door slammed open with brutal force, and a thin raven-haired teenager was thrown in, his trunk tossed in on top of him. The whale of a man from the pictures Snape had eyed earlier, his face purple with rage, stood in the doorway. The slightly smaller form of a porky blond teenager stood behind him. 

“That will teach you to bring effing freaks into this house, boy! No supper and no food tomorrow either, not until I get word from one of those ruddy owls that that freak of a bodyguard isn’t coming! Do you understand me, Potter?” The name was spat out.

“Yes, Uncle Vernon.” The crumpled form seemed to be gasping for breath.

The door slammed shut, and Severus could hear the locks being thrown. He waited until he heard the thundering footsteps on the stairs before getting cautiously to his feet and spelling the door with locking and silencing charms. Taking off the cloak, he sank to his knees beside the boy, and reached out to lay a hand him. With a startled cry, the teen threw himself away from the touch, or tried to, his body not reacting quite as he would have liked, as he cowered back against the wardrobe. 

“Potter?”

The head came up slowly and Severus gasped as he took in the bloodied nose, split lips, and rapidly swelling eyes. The magical tee shirt the boy was wearing, white with a fluttering snitch, was ripped down the front and he carried his smashed glasses in his hand.

“Who are you?” the boy whispered.

The Potions master ignored the question as he bent to help the young wizard up on to the bed, where he sat on the edge. “What happened?”

Harry didn’t look at him. “My cousin and his friends decided to start their summer right, and play a little ‘Harry Hunting.’ My uncle thought it would be great sport to help them.”

The voice that just this morning had been cocky and defiant was flat and devoid of inflection, nothing like the voice he associated with the Boy Who Lived. As gently as he could, Severus removed the torn shirt and gasped again at the red, purpling marks the marred the boy’s pale skin. Knowing that Harry was not completely healed from the torture he had suffered just over a week ago, the Potions master winced in sympathy.

“You should have hexed them,” he snapped, retrieving his bag from inside the wardrobe. From a specially designed inner pocket, he removed two vials of potion, one a restorative draught and the other a healing potion to minimize bruising and reduce swelling.

“I can’t use magic outside of school.” 

“Hmm, I am not under the same restrictions, Mister Potter. Drink these.”

Harry’s head snapped up so fast his neck muscles started to spasm. He let his eyes roam over the tall teenager in front of him, the dark greasy hair, prominent nose, and the potion vials in his hand. Dropping his head back into his hands, he groaned; of all the things he had hoped to keep from his bodyguard, the way he was really treated by his relatives had been at the top of the list. As if the snarky bastard needed anything else to gloat about, to throw in his face like he did Harry’s supposed fame.

His voice was barely above a whisper, “You’re not supposed to be here yet, Professor Snape.”

Severus was surprised to hear the defeat in that voice, and sat on the bed beside the young wizard. “The opportunity to escape arose and I took advantage of it. Drink these, Potter, they will help.”

Harry downed them without question, the bastard might hate him, but for some strange reason, he trusted the man. Handing the empty vials back, he immediately felt better, the pain easing. Remembering his glasses, he unfolded them and just stared at the shattered lenses.

“ _Occulus reparo_.” 

The lenses immediately repaired themselves, and Harry slid them on with a half-smile. “Thank you, sir.”

The clear image of the teenager beside him brought back the memories Harry had seen in the Potions master’s pensieve just over a year ago. Shame and regret slammed into him, bringing emotional pain to go with his physical pain. He had gone to the dungeons at the beginning of the last year and apologized for the violation of the man’s privacy, and pleaded with him to resume the Occlumency lesson. It had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. Much to his relief, the Professor had agreed, and Harry had finally been able to block Voldemort’s intentional intrusions into his mind, although he was still plagued by painful visions.

At least the older wizard looked better than he had a week ago, Harry thought. He struggled to his feet; misery welled up inside him, caused by his belief that Snape would enjoy his humiliation. Now the entire wizarding world would know how his relatives really treated him, the secret he’d kept from everyone, even Hermione and Ron. His leg still hurt where he’d been hit with a particularly nasty curse, and Dudley had aggravated the injury by kicking it, but he stood up straight.

“Thank you for all your help, Professor Snape, I’ll get my things together and let my…relatives know you are already here. My uncle is not very happy with the idea of a wizard under his roof, I’m afraid.” 

Harry lifted his eyes to meet the unreadable dark eyes of the teenager in front of him. He gestured a hand at the room around him. “This is where I spend my summer holidays, sir, although I am not sure whether they will feed you – they barely feed me.”

The dark eyes watched his jerky motions. “Where do you think you are going, Potter?”

The emerald green eyes were flat and dull, even though the boy attempted a smile.

“You are to have this room, sir. I am to be locked back in the cupboard under the stairs.”

* * *


	2. Truth

* * *

“The cupboard under the stairs? The same cupboard I saw during Occlumency lesson? I had believed that was something inflicted on you as a punishment.” Taken back, the Potions Master spoke without his usual venom.

“I lived in that cupboard until I was almost eleven, my Hogwarts letter was even addressed to me there, but you are right, it was my punishment for having been inflicted on my relatives.” 

The flatness of the boy’s voice sent a chill down Severus’ spine, and he studied the boy’s blank face. Was it possible that he had misjudged him so badly, making assumptions based on the father and applying them prejudicially against the son? They had exchanged enough memories during those dratted Occlumency lessons, especially during the boy’s fifth year to suggest that might be possible. Dumbledore expected this boy, this man-child, to defeat the most evil wizard their world had ever seen; yet he sent him home every summer to be beaten and abused? Something gave way inside the former Death Eater, as he was no strange himself to abuse, and a feeling of rage swept through him.

“You will not be going anywhere, Mister Potter,” Severus said between gritted teeth. 

Moving over to stand by the chair he had conjured, and waving the boy back from the cot. With a flick of his wrist and a muttered spell, he split the small bed into two, both looking impossibly small. The boy looked up at him, guarded hope now showing in the emerald green eyes. Reaching into his bag, Severus pulled out a scrap of parchment and quill, scribbled a note, folded the paper and sent it through the wall with a flick of his wrist. A glance out the window told him that is sliding into evening, the summer sun still burning brightly.

“I believe it is time for complete truth between us, Mister Potter, as we are to be stuck together for the next nine weeks. I think we need to reach some kind of understanding, and strive to prepare as best as we can for the Dark Lord’s next move.”

Severus removed the small vial of clear liquid from an inside pocket of the robes he wore. “As you are well aware, this is Veritaserum. I am willing to submit to taking it, if you will do the same, as I believe there is not other way you will believe anything I say.”

Harry sat down on the edge of the closest bed, and studied the Potion Master suspiciously. This was not something he would have thought the older wizard willing to do, willing to be vulnerable in the presence of his most hated student.

“Why?”

“I have reason to believe that I have been operating under a number of misconceptions concerning you, and need to be able to trust the answers you give me. Trust is not something I give easily, Potter, but in this situation, we need to be able to trust or we will most likely kill each other inside of a week.”

“Alright, Professor,” Harry answered, resigned, “if you think it will help.”

Severus sat down on the bed next to the boy, handing him the vial with the instruction to administer two drops on his tongue. Harry did as he was told, and handed the vial back to him, so the Potions Master could put two drops on Harry’s tongue. 

“I thought you needed three drops, sir.”

“I don’t think we need a full dose to accomplish our goal, Mister Potter. Are you ready?”

Harry nodded, apprehension churning in his stomach.

“I am going to ask you several questions first, and then you may ask me what you would like.”  
Harry nodded again; as he settled back against the head of the bed, finding that it had been enlarged and was now very comfortable. Severus sat back against the footboard so that they faced each other, and Harry looked up to meet the dark eyes of the Potions Master.

“How long have your relatives been abusing you, Mister Potter, as they certainly do not appear to have much regard for you?

The dullness was again clouding the emerald green eyes. “They never wanted me, sir, and have always told me I was an ungrateful freak whose parents were killed in a car crash. I have cleaned and cooked for the family for as long as I can remember to pay for my keep. Dudley and his friends would beat me up, and threaten anyone who was friendly with me at school. I have never gotten anything that that hadn’t already been used by my cousin, never had a real present for Christmas from them, and they don’t recognize my birthday.” 

Harry sighed and rubbed a hand over his still bloody face, the bruises faintly purple around his eyes. “It got worst once I knew I was a wizard, and it seemed like my uncle was determined to either starve the magic out of me or beat it out. Then the summer after my third year, I came home and told them I had found my escaped murder godfather who was concerned over how they treated me, which took care of most of the problem. Since then, they make a list of chores, and I eat according to what I get done, but if I wake them with a nightmare or Hedwig is too loud, then I go hungry.”

“Why have you never told the Headmaster about this?” Snape asked quietly.

The teenager shrugged his shoulders; “I didn’t really know that families didn’t act that way, until I saw how the Weasleys treated each other. By then I had run into the whole Boy-Who-Lived rubbish, and was too embarrassed to tell anyone. Ron and his brothers rescued me before my second year because I had been locked in here with no food and bars across the window, so I think they had some idea. What good would it do anyway? Professor Dumbledore says I have to stay here in the summer because of the protection I get from living in the place where my mother’s blood dwells.”

“That would mean that when you arrived at Hogwarts, you had no idea how things in the magical world worked, ignorant as opposed to arrogant,” the Potions Master said, almost as if he were talking to himself.

“Is that why you hate me, Professor, because you thought I was arrogant?”

“It is why I have been particularly hard on you, Potter, as I believed you had come from a home which coddled and cosseted you, treated you like a little prince. You were, after all, the Boy-Who-Lived, why would I think any different? Your father was much like Draco Malfoy when he came to Hogwarts, a much loved, pampered boy from a rich, powerful, pure-blood family.” 

It was Severus Snape’s turn to rub a hand over his face. “I do not hate you, Potter. I may, upon occasion have had reason to loathe your existence, but I do not hate you.”

“You hated Sirius, sir,” Harry’s voice was deliberately calm.

“Your godfather hated me as much as I hated him, Potter, but that did not stop me from doing everything in my power to keep him from going to the Department of Mysteries that day. He was a member of the Order and I did not wish him dead, regardless of what you chose to believe. Why did you look in my Pensieve that year?”

Emerald eyes met the obsidian ones firmly. “I thought you placed in the Pensieve whatever it was that Professor Dumbledore was keeping from me that year, the Prophecy I think. I know I should have back out as soon as I knew it was a memory of yours, but then I saw my father, whom I had never really seen before and I stayed. If I had known that what I would see would horrify me and make me ashamed of both my father and godfather, who were acting like a pair of asinine bullies, I would have never gone in.”  
Dropping his eyes, Harry stared at his fingertips. “As I told you at the beginning of this past year, sir, I am very sorry for having violated your privacy, and have suffered more than I can tell you, having found out my dad was as big an arse as you always said.”

“Your mother found some redeeming value to him, Mister Potter, or she never would have married him, and your mother was a very smart witch.” Severus felt the need to tell him.

“Why do you care, Professor? What is it to you if my relatives have treated me badly, you don’t like me enough to care about it?” 

“Do you recall the memories you saw those times you were able to break into my mind? Specifically those memories of the cruel bastard that was my father, screaming at my mother, and I? You are not the only one who knows how it feels to be abused, or ashamed to tell anyone that the people who are supposed to love you and protect you, in fact hate you and hurt you.” 

Harry raised his head slowly the words sunk in. The dark eyes were guarded, but Harry knew the words were true, had even suspected as much, but his hatred had blinded him to any sympathy or understanding. 

“I am sorry, sir. No one should treat a child that way.”

“I agree, Mister Potter.” 

It was strange to stare at the teenaged face in front of him, and Harry was fascinated by the play of emotion that he’d never seen on the older version of the same face.

“Why do you look like you are my age, Professor?” He asked without thinking.

“The Headmaster believed I won’t less conspicuous if I appeared to be a teenager, and Madame Pomfrey thought my injures would heal faster in a seventeen year old body, so I was given a de-aging potion.” 

Nodding his head in understanding, Harry shifted as his leg continued to throb. “What happens now, sir?”

Severus stretched his own sore legs out, pleased that the enlargement charm had made both beds roomy.

“We will both be remain in this room, Mister Potter, and you are not to go anywhere without me. Professor Dumbledore requested that I moderate my use of magic so that it does not draw undue attention to us, but I do no plan to inform your uncle of that when I speak to him tomorrow. I have sent a message, which will summon a house-elf with dinner for us, and I will make arrangements to have all our meals provided, so that we do not find ourselves at the mercy of your relatives.”

“My uncle is not going to be very happy, Professor.”

“Indeed, especially as I plan to advise him of the large amount of muggle currency that I hold as payment for their inconvenience.”

Harry snickered; “That should catch his attention. Are we going to have to stay inside all the time?”

“I believe I can arrange for us to have full access in and out of the residence, Mister Potter.”

At that moment, there was a pop as a house-elf with huge, tennis ball size green eyes, and a long narrow pencil shaped nose appeared next to the beds. Dressed in a mustard yellow jumper and purple Bermuda shorts, a stack of small hats on his head, and mismatched socks on his feet, the elf held a large tray of food hovering in front of him. As the short creature turned to address them, his eyes grew even large.

“Mister Harry Potter, sir! Dobby is pleased to be seeing you!”

Harry found his arms fall of house-elf and laughed as he patted the small back. “Hi, Dobby, how are you?”

“Dobby is fine, sir, but has been missing his Harry Potter!”

“Thank you for bringing us dinner, Dobby, I haven’t eaten very much today and this looks delicious.” The teenager told him as he looked over the tray.

“I is glad that you is liking the food, sir, and Dobby will be bringing you and Professor Snape food for the summer, Professor Dumbledore said.”

“Thank you very much, Dobby.” 

Harry suffered through another rib cracking hug as the little elf disappeared with a snap of his fingers. Watching as the Potions Master conjured a small table in front of the beds so they could eat. Both seemed to find their appetites and tucked into, glad for the good selections of light summer foods. With a wave of his hand, Severus banished the tray and moved to unpack his bag into the enlarged wardrobe. He watched from the corner of the eye as Harry changed out of his over-sized muggle jeans into over-sized shorts, pulling on a large t-shirt.

“It was my understanding that you have access to the fortune that was left you by your parents, Potter, why do you insist on wearing such disgusting clothing?

“My relatives have no idea that I have any money, sir, and I am sure they would find a way to take it from me, so I wear what they have provided for me.”   
“hmmm,” was his response as he watched the boy move to pack.

The evening passed pleasantly, to Severus’ surprise, as Harry settled at his desk and began to work on his summer assignments. A rattle at the door near bedtime signaled the allotted nightly bathroom visit, the horse-faced woman silently overseeing that Potter took care of his needs in a timely fashion. Severus followed under the invisibility cloak, sighing softly at being forced into such close quarters with a student. They had settled in to their roomy and comfortable beds, and he was almost asleep when a soft voice addressed him.

“Professor, would you please call me Harry while we are here? Everyone who hates me calls me ‘Potter’…”

“As you wish, Harry, good night.”

“Good night, sir”

* * *


	3. Ice Cream

* * *

“POTTER!! Get up! Dudders wants his breakfast!!! Get up, NOW!!”

The pounding on the door woke both the sleeping teenagers. Harry, forgetting what had transpired the night before, sprung from bed as his reflexes kicked in.

“Coming, Uncle Vernon,” Harry called as he pulled on the over-large shorts and tee shirt. 

Grabbing his glasses, he turned and saw the dark-haired boy in the next bed. Everything came rushing back, and Harry apologized hurriedly as he toed into his trainers. Hearing Snape mutter an unlocking spell, he made his way quickly to the bathroom, before walking, head down, to the stairs. As he descended them, he hoped that the Potions Master would take care of things as he had promised the night before, because he could tell by his wake up call that his uncle’s indignation was still flaming. Entering the kitchen, Harry walked right into a backhand from Vernon for making them wait.

Severus climbed out of bed and pulled on his black wizard robes, tucking his wand into the sewn-in holster in the sleeve and adding a handful of the muggle currency that Albus had given him before leaving the room. He was walking to the bathroom, firmly tucked under the invisibility cloak, when he heard the dull thud of flesh hitting flesh from the floor below. Stifling a growl, Severus hurried through his morning business, then tiptoed down the stairs, and slipped out the front door. Checking to make sure he could not be seen, he removed the cloak and rang the doorbell.

The whale of a boy answered, took one look at Severus, and yelled. The large man with the purple face appeared in the doorway, and sputtered.

“I refuse to have another FREAK in this house! You just go back and tell those people that we are not allowing you to stay with Potter this summer.”

“Mister Dursley, I presume. My name is Professor Severus Snape,” the Potions Master stated calmly as he drew his wand, shoved it under Vernon’s bottom chin, and back him into the entry. “I am a fully trained adult wizard who is not above using magic at any time, for any reason. I will be staying with Mister Potter this summer, and knowing such, you have the option of achieving this outcome in a manner that is easy on you or difficult. You may make the choice.”

Vernon stopped as his back hit the staircase landing, his complexion rapidly losing its ruddy color. Dudley quivered in terror, as Petunia clutched at him with one hand and covered her mouth with the other, her eyes wide with fright. With his left hand, Severus reached into his pocket and withdrew a wad of currency, which he thrust under Vernon’s nose.

“It would be most advantageous for both of us, Dursley, if you simply forgot that either Potter or I were here; then at the end of summer, I will reward you with copious amounts of this ugly paper currency you muggles seem to covet. Rest assured, the alternative to that arrangement will not be pretty, and involves much more than merely attempting to turn your son into a pig.” 

Curling his lip, Severus sneered at the overweight teen, who promptly wet himself like a damn Hufflepuff first year. This could be entertaining, he thought idly.

“This should be ample reason for you to agree, just knowing that I am Mister Potter’s most hated teacher, and will strive to make his pathetic, little life miserable whilst I am here.” Turning towards the kitchen, he called, “Potter!”

Harry appeared instantly in the doorway, a bruise blossoming on his left cheek and dried blood around his nose. With a deadly glare, the older wizard turned back to Vernon, and gestured towards Harry.

“I will warn now though, Dursley, you will not lay another hand on that boy, or you will answer to me. Only cowards beat children. If you repeat this despicable behavior, I will be forced to apply wizard’s law, and you will not like it,” Severus spat out the words in a hiss between clenched teeth, and stepped back. “So, which will it be, Dursley, the easy way or the hard way?”

“E…easy,” Vernon stammered, his beady eyes bugging.

“Excellent. Mister Potter, remove yourself from the kitchen, you are not a house-elf. We will have our breakfast in the back garden, where there will be no prying eyes to see us.” Severus peeled a dozen bills off the wad of money and threw them in the air, before heading up the stairs with Harry at his heels.

Halfway up he turned, “And I will thank you to keep a civil tongue, Mister Dursley, when you speak to Harry or me.”

Following the Potions Master back into his room, Harry stifled his urge to laugh by biting his cheek. He sat quietly at the desk, reading back over the Charms essay he had worked on the night before. Hearing the rustling of clothing behind him, Harry turned to see Snape step into a pair of black, cotton trousers; he could see that the seventeen year old’s body was as thin as his own. Living in a dorm with four other boys for the past six years, Harry felt no modesty or shame in walking around most of the time in various stages of undress, but had noticed that in the past couple of years most of the other boys had started to fill out, chest and shoulders broadening. With a slight blush, found his eyes straying to the nicely rounded arse and taut thighs before they were covered. 

Hastily averting his eyes, he mentally shook himself. What was with him lately? It seemed in the past six months or so, he had begun to notice the beauty in the lines of both boys and girls at school. His crush on Cho Chang had long since faded, Luna Lovegood had left him cold when she kissed him, and even an attempt to date Ginny Weasley had fizzled when neither of them found the slightest thing arousing happened when they had gotten naked. They remained good friends, and even slipped away once in a while to masturbate together, while they talked about sexual fantasies. Harry was still waiting for the kiss that would make the earth shake, and something other than a vague dream to make him come without his own hand helping.

“Come along then, Harry, collect your wand and…” 

Severus turned around as he buttoned up the short-sleeved white linen shirt, taking in the sight of his every move being watched by the sixteen year old, sitting at his desk in the huge rags of his cousin. This would never do, Severus thought as he ripped his eyes away from the emerald green orbs that seemed infinitely more alive now than they had last night. He turned back to the wardrobe, and pulled out a pair of blue denim pants from the items that Albus had included, along with a fitted short-sleeved cotton shirt.

“Take your clothes off, Mister Potter; you will not be wearing those rags while I am here.” 

Harry’s eyes widened, but he did as he told, stripping down to the thin, white boxers that hung off his slim frame. He refused to be embarrassed by the assessing eyes that roamed over him; Harry knew that he was underweight, but he was nonetheless proud of the thin layer of muscle that he had gained through Quidditch and special defense classes. His shoulders and chest had started to fill out, and he knew his arms and legs were toned. It seemed that he would always be short, but was glad for the several inches he had grown over the last six months. 

Severus handed him the clothing, “Put these on, Harry, and the first thing we will do after breakfast is find somewhere close by to purchase some decent clothing.”

Harry tugged on the jeans, finding that they were a bit long in the leg but fit much better than Dudley’s old clothes did, as did the soft cotton shirt. Sliding his wand into his front pocket, he stepped back into his trainers and followed his professor back down the stairs. They walked out through the kitchen, past his open-mouthed relatives, and into the warm morning sunshine. With a snap of the Potions Master’s fingers, Dobby appeared with a tray heavily laden with scrambled eggs, bacon, fresh fruit, scones, tea, and pumpkin juice. He set it down on the garden table before throwing himself at Harry for a hug, and then with a pop he was gone, leaving the bemused teenagers to their breakfast.

The day grew steadily warmer as the two teenagers walked three blocks to the south of Privet Drive, where there was a small shopping center. Harry was delighted with the opportunity to buy himself some decent clothing, but pulled up short when he realized that he didn’t have any muggle money.

“Professor, what am I going to use as money? I have a bag full of galleons, but no pounds.”

Snape waved him off; “We will make an accounting of everything later, the Headmaster gave me plenty of money.”

Harry smiled and led him into a mid-priced specialty store for teenagers, with the stoic dark-haired teen trailing behind him. The sheer pleasure of being able to buy something he wanted new made Harry giddy, and he forgot the identity of his companion, pulling Severus along with him. The green eyes sparkled as he pushed walking shorts and sandals into both their arms, along with jeans, tee shirts, boxers, socks and shoes. Dragging him into a large dressing room, Harry gleefully tried on his choices, speaking up occasionally to ask Severus if something looked appropriate. He watched out of the corner of his eye, as the older wizard finally began to try on the shorts Harry had given him. 

By the time they left the store wearing new shorts, they both carried several bags of clothing, and Severus found that the pleasure Harry had felt at the simple act of being able to buy something for himself was infectious. They stopped at a small pub that sold fish and chips, and sat at an outside table to eat it. Harry had tried to persuade him to try a drink a cola, but Severus had refused, opting for tea. The fish was greasy, but tasty, and both found that the shopping had made them hungry. After lunch, Harry showed him a small bookstore on the way back to the house, and they had spent a pleasurable hour exploring it. 

Severus waited a bit nervously in front of a small grocery, Harry having disappeared inside with a grin, asking him to hold the bags for just a moment. They had left the secure confines of Privet Drive five hours before, and while these were areas that Harry had always frequented in the summer months, Severus knew better than anyone how desperate the Dark Lord was to kill the young man.

“Here, Professor, try this.” 

Harry Potter appeared before him, holding in each hand a creamy looking substance atop a brown cone shaped substance. He handed one to the older wizard, and swiped his tongue over the one in his hand. Severus watched him and forgot to breath for a moment, before bring the ice cream cone to his lips. One taste of the heavenly substance and he moaned in delight as the sweet, creaming flavor burst on his tongue. 

“What is this?”

“Caramel ice cream, sir, it’s the best! The owners make it here fresh.”

They had gathered their bags, and begun walking again as they ate their ice cream.

“There are other flavors, then?” Severus was curious, although he thought the caramel was very good.

Harry stopped and his face fell. “I am so sorry, sir, yes, there are other flavors. I just thought…caramel was the only flavor I had ever been allowed to taste when Dudley decided he didn’t like it.” He stared at his cone. “I should have asked you for your choice…”

Laying a hand on the teenager’s arm, the Potions Master halted the stuttered apology.

“I was merely curious, Harry, I am pleased with this flavor, and it was thoughtful of you to get one for me.”

Continuing back towards the Dursleys', as they finished their ice cream, Harry stopped for a moment to haul his tee shirt over his head before walking on. As he folded it and slid the shirt into one of his bags, he looked up to catch the appreciative gaze that flicker over his chest. He dropped his eyes self-consciously, the look had made him feel warm and shivery inside, and he wasn’t sure what that meant. Snape seemed almost human when he wasn’t snipping and snarling at him.

“Did they ever give you anything, Harry?”

No need to ask to whom he was referring. “No, although on occasion they would let me finish something if Dudley decided he didn’t like it.”

“I, too, was never allowed treats, as my father believed they would spoil me. My mother tried occasionally to give me something, but my father would find out and beat her for giving it to me, and me for accepting it,” Severus told him quietly. “I believe we will need to return to that shop until we have tried every flavor.”

When they arrived back at the house, Harry retrieved Hedwig from the cupboard under the stairs, where Vernon had shoved her the day before. Once free of her cage, the snowy owl took flight, sailing out the open bedroom window. After putting their purchases away, Harry stood in the middle of the room, the heat oppressive. Sweat trickled down his back, and looking over, he could see Snape’s hair sticking to his sweaty neck.  
“As long as we are going to be hot, sir, we could go out into the garden and get some sun. I bought some sun screen so that we don’t burn.”

Following the boy down to the backyard, Severus glanced around before transfiguring two garden tools into chaise lounges. Unbuttoning his own shirt, Severus draped it over the end of the chair. The de-aging potion had not erased the scars that scored his back, remembrances of his father and Death Eater meetings, and he felt self-conscious as he sat down. A hand on his shoulder stopped his movement.

“You are paler than I am, professor, let me put some of this sun screen on you before you burn.”

Severus was painfully aware of the young man as he sat down behind him. Strong hands gently began to rub cool, coconut-scented lotion into his shoulders, leaving his skin tingling where they touched. Lightly callused fingers lingered on the worst of the scars, smoothing over the imperfections. His body tightening with each stroke, the older wizard almost moaned as those fingers flirted with his waistline.

“There you go, sir, all done, here’s the bottle if you want to use more.”

Harry pushed the bottle into his professor’s hand before quickly stretching out on his stomach. The palms of his hands still tingled from touching the satin skin of Snape’s back, and all his blood was pooled in his groin. Something was definitely wrong with him, to get the hardest he’d ever been by touching his greasy git of a Potions Master.

“Allow me to return the favor.”

Long, slender fingers slid over his shoulders, and Harry stuffed a fist into his mouth to keep from groaning at the sudden heat coursing through him. His cock throbbed as the hands branded him with each stroke. Sometimes, he thought, being a hormonal teenager was downright humiliating. If it were any one but Snape, he’d invite those marvelous hands to stroke him all over. He was sure that Snape would hex him for the mere thought.

Severus felt the fine tremor that ran through the boy as he smoothed lotion across the sculpted shoulder blades. Dumbledore’s Golden Boy aroused and quivering at the hand of Severus Snape, ex-Death Eater. The thought intrigued him, and his erection swelled, making the new shorts rather tight. Taking his time, he spread the coconut lotion evenly across the toned muscles, lingering on a surprising number of scars. He knew the Harry was famous for his suicidal brushes with the Dark Lord and his attempts at death by Quidditch, but Severus would wager that his relatives had inflicted the majority of these. He ruthlessly squashed the rage that welled up, but a part of his brain began plotting.

When he finished, he followed Harry’s example and lay on his stomach, discretely adjusting himself. Both were lost in thought, and lulled by the warm sun, dozed off. Dobby woke them with dinner, after which they made their way upstairs, still not catching sight of the Dursleys. Taking turns showering, they sat in companionable silence, as Harry continued to work on his Charms essay, and Severus studied him over the pages of his technical journal.

Bedtime was equally low-key, as Harry slipped into bed, clad in new boxers, with a quiet ‘good night’. Severus lay in the dark for a long time, attempting to reconcile the image he had of the pampered and spoiled Boy-Who-Lived with the quiet, almost shy Harry he’d kept company with for the past twenty-four hours. This Harry had shed the façade that the wizarding world expected of him, and in Severus’ mind had become an attractive, abused young man named Harry who delighted in the smallest joys, and seemed starved for affection. The Potions Master was at a loss as all his preconceived notions of Harry went sailing out the window.

* * *


	4. Discoveries

* * *

Long, slender fingers stroked his skin softly, sensually; lips tasted his velvety flesh, trailing down his neck. A deep, satin voice urged him to hardness, hot breath whispering in his ear. Dark, fathomless eyes blazed into his, heating him to his soul, then turned slowly scarlet red. The fingers, now white and skeletal, still stroked his cheek. Flinching, he tried to jerk away, struggling against the bonds that tied him to the headstone; he watched as Cedric was haloed in green spell light, dead eyes staring at him. Frantically, he tried to run through the stone chamber, down the steps to the dais where the archway stood, and he heard a cold, high voice laughing as Sirius pitched forward through the veil.

Hands caught at him as he struggled to get away, to save Cedric, save Sirius. He knew he was crying and screaming, his voice hoarse, but he couldn’t help it, he had to help them. His arms were held, and he was pulled back into a warm chest; his cries gradually changed to whimpers, and he buried his face in the warmth.

Awoken from a deep sleep by the hoarse shouts coming from the bed next to his, Severus threw up a silencing charm to keep the muggles from waking, and tried calling out to the boy. He could see Harry thrashing in the bed, arms held rigidly at his side as if he were bound. Calling out to him had no effect, and with a sigh, the Potions Master climbed over to the next bed and tried to stop the young man’s movement. Making out the names Harry was crying, Severus realized that he was having a nightmare, and used his larger frame to pin the teen against his chest. 

Severus awkwardly tried to soothe the teenager; Harry tucked his face into his neck and began to sob softly. The older wizard was definitely out of his element; he brought his hand up to brush back the soft raven hair tickling his face while he considered what to do. As his hand slid through the boy’s hair, to his surprise, Harry seemed to lean into it, instantly calming. Adjusting the boy more comfortably, Severus stroked his hand through the wild hair, murmuring reassurances in his ear as a long-buried memory of his mother surfaced suddenly in his mind. She had calmed him as a child by stroking his hair. 

The comforting gesture drew Harry towards consciousness; the nightmare fled back into the nether reaches of his mind, leaving the terror to linger. As awareness slowly seeped into him, Harry felt disoriented; the arms holding him and the hand stroking through his hair were reminiscent of what Ron did when they were in the dorm, but the clean scent of sandalwood and something sweet was new. It took him a minute to realize that his nose was buried in soft flesh. Opening his eyes, the pale moonlight that streamed through the window over the beds showed him that he was in Dudley’s second bedroom, and he was wrapped in the arms of his Potions Master.

Embarrassment flashed through him, heating his cheeks, but he was reluctant to leave the warmth and comfort of human touch, which he had experienced very few times in his life. Taking a deep breath, Harry hesitantly started to sit up, easing away from the older wizard, his hands coming up to scrub his face. He could feel the intense gaze of the dark eyes, his professor sitting quietly beside him.

“I am sorry, sir, I guess I should have warned you about my…nightmares.”

“Do you experience them often?”

“Almost every night, sir,” Harry sighed, “some are just regular nightmares, like tonight, and the others are…visions, I guess, the I seem to see through Vold…um, the Dark Lord’s eyes. They are of Death Eater meetings and stuff.”

Something fell into place in Severus’ mind, something that the Headmaster had alluded to. “You see the meetings; that was how you knew I was being tortured.” It was a statement, not a question.

Nodding, Harry rubbed his scar with the ball of his hand absently. “Yes, and why I could not stop to tell anyone, because I knew what he was about to do to you.”

The Potions Master reached out and tilted the teen’s face up so their eyes met.  
“You knew he was getting ready to cast the Cruciatus again, and knew I could not survive it without…damage, so you illegally Apparated from the safety of Hogwarts to an unfamiliar place, guided only by a vision.”

Harry’s eyes were steady but shuttered, as he confirmed, “Yes, sir, you were in trouble, and I am tired of losing people who matter in my life to that bastard. Besides, Hermione says I have a ‘saving people thing’.”

“I may not have properly articulated it at the time, Harry, but I am thankful that you did.”

Harry grinned suddenly; “I could tell by the way you yelled at me and took points for my foolhardy behavior, sir.”

Severus arched an eyebrow, but was determined not to be baited. 

“If these nightmares or visions or whatever manifestations you suffer happen every night, do you sleep at all?”

“Usually I sleep hard for several hours before, but it’s one of the reasons I have the habit of wandering about the castle late at night; I am not usually able to go back to sleep afterwards, and don’t want to wake anyone else. I know that the Occlumency has helped prevent any visions the Dark Lord sends deliberately, but it doesn’t block the true visions, and nightmares are just nightmares.”

Crawling out of bed, Severus walked over to the wardrobe, and dug into his bag. Walking back, he sat on the edge of his bed, and handed a potion vial to Harry.

“This is a variation of Dreamless Sleep, not quite as strong, but not as addictive either. Take five drops of it directly on your tongue, and see if you can go back to sleep.”

Taking the vial, Harry did what he was told, and handed it back. He lay down and stretched out, watching as the Slytherin did the same. The potion was fast working, and he felt the pull of sleep almost immediately.

“Thank you, Professor, for helping me,” Harry managed to say as he slid into sleep.

Severus propped himself up on an elbow, and watched as teenager’s breathing evened out and his face relaxed in sleep. The many conversations that he’d had with Albus Dumbledore came to the forefront of his mind, where the elderly wizard had mentioned a vision that Potter had relayed and the many times he had scoffed at the accuracy of such a thing came back to him. He had always felt that the Headmaster was foolish to depend on such information, and hadn’t hesitated to offer a biting opinion of the information and the source. Again, it seemed that his assumption of the young man sleeping in front of him had been wrong.

The sun shone brightly when Severus awoke later that morning; the bed beside his lay empty and neatly made. It was nearly 9am, he discovered with a small measure of surprise, and he could not remember the last time he had slept this late. As he made his way to the bathroom after dressing in a pair of the casual shorts and a tee shirt, he realized that the house was unnaturally quiet. There was not a Dursley in sight when he went down the stairs and through the kitchen. 

Stepping out into the backyard, he saw Harry, clad only in an old pair of his cousin’s shorts, which dangled precariously low on his hips, pushing an odd looking machine back into the shed. The grass in the yard had been freshly mowed, and as he watched, the boy went about trimming the edges with a hand-held device.

“Good morning, Harry,” Severus called out, keeping his voice neutral.

Harry looked up and smiled at the sight of the seventeen-year-old boy, dressed neatly in a light blue tee shirt and beige shorts, standing just outside the back door. Wiping a trickle of sweat from his forehead, he tried to ignore the twitch of appreciation that came from his lower reaches as his eyes devoured the older wizard. Damn, he’d slipped out of bed early just to avoid any embarrassing displays, as his morning erection had reminded him that he really enjoyed looking at the other teen; no, he berated himself, Professor Snape. 

“Good morning, Professor, did you sleep well?” Harry asked anxiously. “I’m sorry I woke you up last night, sir, I’ll try not to do it again.”

Severus waved off the apology, asking, “What are you doing out here, Potter? I thought I told you that you were no longer a house-elf to these muggles.”

“I wanted to do the yard work, sir, I enjoy the mindlessness of the task, as well as the exercise it gives me. Plus, I thought it might tire me out a bit.”

The Potions Master snorted, but held his tongue and refrained from commenting. With a snap of his fingers, Dobby appeared with a breakfast tray. After his usual exuberant greeting for Harry, the oddly clad little creature delivered the tray and disappeared with a pop. Sitting down at the small outdoor table, Severus helped himself to fresh fruit and crepes done to golden brown perfection. As he chewed, he watched the raven-haired teenager complete the trimming of the lawn, and kneel in the flowerbed, pulling weeds.

“Harry, you need to eat something for breakfast. Will you cease your current activity and join me?”

Pushing his fringe off his forehead with the back of his hand, leaving a streak of dirt over his lightning bolt shaped scar, Harry sat back on his heels. With a sigh, he stood and walked over to the table. He was dirty, sweaty and stinky, and did not want to sit with the perfectly groomed wizard. Careful not to touch anything else, he grabbed an apple off the fruit plate and stepped back.

“This should be fine for now, Professor, I will just finish with the weeding and then I can clean up before lunch.”

Severus watched a bead of sweat trickle down the fine chest and slide along the taut abdomen to disappear into the waistband of the teen’s shorts, and swallowed hard. 

“Where are your relatives this morning? They do not appear to be around.”

“Oh, there was a note from my aunt; they left early this morning for a week in Bath, a bit of a holiday courtesy of the money you gave them to stay here. At least they didn’t demand that we go over and stay with Arabella Figg; that is where they normally stick me when they go away.”

That caught his attention, and Severus looked up at the carefully bland look on the Gryffindor’s face. “They didn’t take you on holiday with them, either?”

“No, sir, I have never been anywhere, except the zoo when Missus Figg broke her leg and couldn’t watch me,” with that statement, Harry turned and walked back to the flowerbed. Pity was the last thing he wanted from his professor.

Retrieving his journal, Severus read while Harry spent the morning pulling weeds and deadheading the flowers. Trudging up the stairs, he showered and dressed in a new pair of blue shorts and a white tee shirt. When he returned to the backyard, he found Dobby waiting with the lunch tray, crisp salads and pumpkin juice set on the small, outdoor table. After hugging the diminutive creature, Harry sat down across from the Potions Master and tucked into his food.

“What would you like to do this afternoon, Harry?” Severus asked him.

“Well, sir, I usually just walk around Little Whinging in the summer, so I guess anything within that area is protected by the wards, like the shopping area. There is a small movie theatre that Dudley goes to with his friends; I have never been to a movie before.” 

“A movie it is then, Mister Potter.”

The teenagers walked the four blocks to the small movie theatre where there was a newly released American film playing, Men in Black. Harry bought popcorn and they made their way into the darkened theatre, sitting near the front where he had always heard Dudley say was the best. It was a good thing that there were few people there, as the Gryffindor was kept busy explaining various muggle items to the older wizard. The film entertained both teens, even though Severus was convinced that the aliens were goblins in disguise. Harry ended up watching most of the movie with his head on the older wizard’s shoulder, quietly answering his questions, acutely aware of his companion’s every movement.

Groaning silently, he shifted slightly in his seat, admonishing his hormonal body for growing hard while the older man was whispering in his ear. If this were simply an attractive teenager, Harry would have suggested they should get to know each other better, but this was his bloody Potions Master! It was not worth his life to make such a proposition. The film ended, and the two young men walked out into the bright July sunshine, still talking about the inventive way muggles got around their lack of magic.

On the walk back, Harry stopped again at the small grocery that made the fresh, unusual flavors of ice cream, and dragged Severus inside. The owners made flavors that Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor in Diagon Alley did not, and after shopping for their dinner, Harry picked out peanut butter ice cream and Severus tried the chocolate fudge. They walked back to the Privet Drive house in silence, communicating only in gestures. Harry offered his cone for his companion to sample, and took a lick of the cone offered in return. 

“What is that?” Severus asked as they walked up the driveway to the house.

Glancing in the direction indicated, Harry smiled at the little girl from across the street, who was riding by on her bicycle. She frowned at him, and stuck out her tongue.

“I assume you are asking about the bicycle, Professor?” 

“Yes, it looks intriguing, as is the insolent behavior of the child.”

“I can take you to the bike shop tomorrow if you are interested,” Harry told him, leading the way into the kitchen. “The little girl is only reacting to what she has been told about me, so it’s not really her fault.”

“And what, pray tell, has she been told.”

“The neighbors all think I go to Saint Brutus’s Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys,” this said emotionlessly as the boy began to empty the grocery bag. 

The Potions stopped in his tracks, stunned. He had surmised that Potter’s relations were narrow minded, heavy handed, and mean spirited, but he had not thought that it went into such a deep pattern of psychological abuse. Very familiar with that particular pattern personally, he had thought himself something of an expert at being able to pick out its victims and help them, a trait necessary for the Head of Slytherin House. Yet, here stood a tried and true Gryffindor who managed to hide it from him for six years, Occlumency training not withstanding. 

“I gather the term ‘freak’ which your uncle used the other morning is his normal description of a wizard?”

Harry snorted, “That is one of the milder phrases, Professor, guess I’ve just gotten used to hearing it over the years, so it doesn’t seem to hurt as much any more.”

Severus stepped over and pulled on Harry’s arm, turning him around. The onyx eyes caught the emerald green in time to see the hurt and sadness the flashed through them.

“As long as you do not believe that they are accurate depictions of your character, or for some misguided reason, believe that you have warranted the abuse.” The older wizard watched the pain flare, and without thinking, enfolded the teenager in his arms. 

“No matter what they have said to you, no matter how many times those animals have told you that you are worthless or a freak, Harry, you must know that their words are rubbish. You are a very powerful wizard, one who is destined to greatness, and despite your appalling Gryffindor behavior traits, very intelligent. Beyond that, you are loyal to a fault, courageous, attractive, and a moderately skilled Quidditch player.” Severus’ mouth snapped shut, knowing that he’d already said too much, his cock reacting strongly to the teen he was embracing.

Harry’s arms had slipped around the other man’s waist as he allowed himself to lean in for a moment and take the comfort that was being offered. His traitorous body perked right up, liking the feel of the lean muscle it was pressed against. A wayward portion of Harry’s brain decided that they fit well together. Harry’s forehead was level with the Potion Masters chin, and it would be very easy to tuck his face into the side of that warm neck. Heat bloomed in his cheeks, and Harry took a step back, feeling a sense of loss as both pairs of arms dropped.

“Moderately skilled Quidditch player?” Harry’s teasing comment broke the tension in the room, as he turned around and continued his preparation for dinner. 

The Potions Master snorted and moved to lean against the counter and watch as Harry assembled the ingredients they had purchased. Harry washed and chopped fresh vegetables, peeled and minced fresh garlic, and started a pot of water for pasta. Setting a bowl on the counter, Harry began to finely shred a block of bitter chocolate, as he put together ingredients for a pudding. Severus watched in fascination, as the boy hummed to himself, chopping and stirring, no recipe in sight. 

“Professor, do you think that Dobby would bring us a bottle of white wine, I need a little bit for the sauce?”

With a snap of his fingers, Severus quickly relayed their needs to the house-elf, who quickly returned with a bottle of chardonnay along with two wine goblets. Promising to return and take care of the dishes, Dobby poured the wine with a flourish, and disappeared. The Potions Master sipped the wine as he continued to watch the Gryffindor prepare their dinner with sure, concise motions. 

A realization hit Severus as Harry stirred the chocolate dessert he was making. Potter was an intuitive brewer, which meant that learning to brew potions the way Severus taught was completely ineffective. Instead of the rigid format of recipe and stringent instruction, an intuitive brewer needed to know the odor, color, and texture of the potion he was trying to make. It was a more instinctive, less quantitative method, one used by someone whose magical abilities were very strong, which went along with everything else he was discovering about the young man, and the Potions Master wondered how he could have misjudged this boy so badly.

“You should have been in Slytherin,” Severus muttered into his wine.

Harry turned from the stove and grinned; “I almost was, the Sorting Hat told me Slytherin could make me great.”

The horrified look on the face of Severus Snape was enough to send Harry into a fit of laughter, almost letting his sauce over cook.

* * *


	5. Bicycles

* * *

Harry awoke slowly. The sleepy haze faded away from his mind gradually, and his eyes eased open to the take in the bedroom awash in the soft early morning sunlight. He stretched, feeling his muscles ripple from his fingers clear down to his toes, with his morning erection standing at attention in the middle. A glass of wine and a few drops of sleeping potion made for a wonderfully restful, nightmare-free night. Glancing over at the next bed, he watched the bare chest of Severus Snape rise and fall in an even rhythm. Sometime during the night, the Potions Master had kicked off his covers, so that the sheet alone remained, draped across his groin and down one leg. The emerald eyes slid down the lean form with an appreciative gaze, and Harry had to admit that the male form, or at least this male form, aroused him like no girl ever had.

Sliding his hand under his own sheet, he ran his finger tips along his hard flesh, surprised at how sensitive the cloth-covered skin was, and the ripples of sensation that pooled in his belly. His hand pulled back abruptly, as the memory of the beating he’d received when his uncle had walked into his room and found him playing with himself, surfaced in his mind. The things that Vernon had shouted at him, the names he’d called Harry, and the embarrassment of his cousin watching from the doorway with glee were enough to wilt any erection. With a shudder, he slid silently out of bed, and gathered his clothes before heading to the bathroom, never aware of the obsidian eyes that followed him.

Harry showered quickly, dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a green tank top, and made his way downstairs. The house was certainly a more comfortable place with his relatives gone, and he was actually enjoying himself as he whipped up a batch of waffles from the ingredients he had bought the day before. He had just taken the first ones out of the waffle iron when his teacher walked into the kitchen dressed in black shorts and a black tank top, so he set them down in front of the man. Adding a plate of bacon, a glass of milk, and a cup of tea, Harry went back to his cooking. 

“Would you like another, Professor?”

Severus nodded in pleasure, the waffle he was eating positively melting in his mouth. He watched the boy intently as he moved about the kitchen, wondering again what had happened upstairs. Just as his eyes had opened, Severus had seen Harry run his fingers down an impressive erection, before jerking his hand away as if he’d been stung. Something about the look of remembered horror and terror on the young man’s face haunted him, and made him resolve to get to the bottom of it.

After cooking several more, Harry bathed one of the warm, crispy waffles in butter and maple syrup and ate it as he stood by the stove. He snagged a couple of pieces of bacon from the pan, then turned to the sink and began to wash up. Humming to himself, he was a little disconcerted at the feeling of being watched, but Harry was used to the older man questioning most of his actions anyway. Finally, the kitchen was clean and everything was back in its place.

“Did you want to go try the bicycles this morning, sir, before it gets too hot?”

Looking up, Severus nodded, and watched as a genuine smile flashed across the boy’s face. They walked several blocks to the bicycle shop, which had new assembled bikes lining the sidewalk in front its open doors. Severus could see the huge difference in prices as he walked down the row; the most expensive ones were chained together at the end closest to the door. Some were obviously made to be impressive, and others for those who wanted to use them without embellishments.

“They have the rental bikes back here in a rack, Professor,” Harry told him quietly, directing his attention to a rack of rather shabby bikes to one side, refusing to even look at the new bikes.

An irritated-looking man with shaggy brown hair and an even shaggier brown mustache, obviously the proprietor, stepped out the door and eyed them with distain. He glared at Harry, the Potions Master noticed with a frown, just as he caught sight of a small emblem in one corner of the front window. Severus snorted, drawing the man’s attention. The man, short and stocky, vaguely reminded him of Cornelius Fudge.

“Can I help you, young man?” 

Waving a hand toward the front of the store, Severus stepped closer to the man; “By this, I assume you are a wizard. Is that correct?”

Harry stiffened at the professor’s words, scooting closer to him. The shopkeeper continued to eye him with distaste, but addressed the professor.

“Of course I am, young man, although why I am admitting it to you in front of this hooligan, I don’t know. He’s certainly not someone I would wish to be seen with.” 

Severus eyed the sneer on the man’s face before replying, “Being a wizard, you should know that appearances mean nothing. Are you, by chance, related to Minister Fudge?”

“My mother’s brother as a matter of fact,” the man thrust out his chest importantly, “and you are?”

Harry’s stomach jolted when he heard this, and his eyes dropped to his shoes. The Dursleys had bought Dudley many expensive bikes from this shop over the years, always dragging him along so that his cousin could gloat over his latest acquisition, rubbing Harry’s nose in his worthlessness. This man had been told all the usual lies about him, and it appeared that the man was a wizard all along.

“Then I am doubly surprised that such a well placed wizard such as yourself,” Severus snapped, “would accuse the Boy-Who-Lived of being a common hooligan!”

His breathing stopped, his face burning with humiliation, Harry looked frantically for a way to escape. He knew the Potions Master disliked him, but he had hoped that the truce they seemed to have formed over the past few days would hold. A hand latching onto his arm tugged him closer, and warm fingers gently brushing his fringe away from his scar startled him. He looked up, catching a glint of anger in the dark eyes meeting his.

“I am sure that Harry’s relatives have told you something different, but I can assure you, sir, that Harry Potter is anything but a common hooligan!”

Severus seethed; it was rapidly becoming apparent that not only had the boy’s relatives neglected and mistreated him, they had made sure to ostracize him from anyone with whom they came into contact. He dragged Harry back to the pricey end of the bicycle rack, and pointed at them as he turned toward the still thunderstruck owner.

“Can you assist us with finding two bicycles that are fairly easy to manage, but are well constructed? Neither of us has ever ridden a bicycle before.”

Harry was watching the Potions Master closely, and he flinched as the shrewd, dark eyes appraised him with a calculating look. His surprise at learning the shop owner was a wizard was soon secondary to his discovery of Snape’s negotiating skills. In no time, they both had brand new, very nice bikes, one red and one green, sitting in front of the store. The professor grudgingly allowed Harry to pay for them out of his Gringotts account, knowing that he could not reveal his own name, and not wanting to make such a drastic dent in their muggle funds.

In silence, they walked a block back to the park, where they stopped to watch a man teaching his young daughter to ride a small, pink bicycle. They both took note of the mechanics of the movements, until the little girl was riding unsteadily on her own, her dad cheering wildly behind her.

“Is that what it’s supposed to be like to have a real dad, Professor?”

“I would not be an accurate source for that type of information, Harry, my own was sorely lacking in fatherhood skills.”

Walking further on down to a vacant stretch of walkway, Severus asked the question that had been bothering him. “How is it that you never learned to ride one of these, Harry, if your cousin had several of them?”

Harry kept his face averted, as he examined the gears on the handlebars of his bike. “I tried once, but Dudley caught me and made sure I knew never to do it again. I was seven at the time, and eating my heart out over the brand new bike he’d gotten. You saw some of the memory during our Occlumency lesson’s fifth year, I think.”

Harry threw his leg over the bar and set the bike moving; lifting his feet, he balanced easily as his feet hit the pedals, just as he would on his Firebolt. Pumping for all he was worth, he kept the bike moving, but it was soon moving too fast. Frantically he tried to remember how to slow down, until the thought popped into his head: oh, the brakes! Grasping the hand brakes he squeezed them tightly, and found himself launched over the handlebars. Years of Quidditch practice had conditioned him, luckily. Kicking clear of the still-moving bike, he rolled as he hit the grass, landing with a thud flat on his back. The world grayed out as he struggled to replace the breath that had been knocked out of him.

“Harry!”

Taking small breaths through his mouth, Harry looked up to see his professor ride up, stop neatly, and run over to him.

“Bloody showoff,” he grumbled as Severus helped him to his feet.

The Slytherin just shook his head, relieved that the boy wasn’t seriously hurt in what had looked like a nasty tumble. Noting the scrapes on various extremities, Severus knew he had the potions to heal them as soon as they returned to the house. Enthusiastic as usual, Harry was back on the bike as soon as he had caught his breath, although at a more sedate speed. They spent the day riding around Little Whinging, stopping for lunch at a small grocery store that sold sandwiches. As the day heated, both teenagers took off their tank tops, stuffing them in the little bags beneath the seats of the bikes. Neither seemed to notice the other as eyeing them hungrily.

It was late afternoon before they returned, tired and sunburned, to Privet Drive, and Severus had to admit it had been an enjoyable day. Dobby brought them dinner, which both ate with enthusiasm; it seemed that exercise had given them both an appetite, much to the little house-elf’s delight. Severus watched with a cynical eye as the hats piled on the top of the small creature’s head swayed ominously. Following his usual fawning over the red cheeked Boy-Who-Lived, the diminutive elf left, leaving behind a magically chilled pitcher of pumpkin juice.

Taking turns showering, they returned to their room for the evening. Harry immediately sprawled on his bed, pillow braced under his chest, Transfiguration text and parchment spread out around him as he started on his summer essay. Severus watched him come in from his seat in his armchair, making notes in the margins of the Potions technical journal he was studying. The hint of a breeze through the window open near the head of the two beds stirred the hot air, and they had left the bedroom door open for circulation. 

Rolling his head, Severus was pleased to feel no stiffness or soreness in his neck. There was definitely an advantage to being in a teenage body again, he thought with a smirk. His eyes drifted again towards the beds, taking in the slender, long legs, the taut curve of an arse check, and the lean, muscled planes of the bare back. Grimacing at the instant erection that sprang up between his legs, he decided that he could do without the raging teenage hormones. Behind the magazine, he slipped his hand into his lap, easing into the loose cotton shorts that he had pulled on after his shower, and adjusted himself to a more comfortable position. He stroked his thumb over the tip, and bit his tongue to keep the groan from escaping, but the sensation intensified at his eyes locked on the fine body in front of him.

“Professor, are you alright?” 

Harry had turned his head when he heard a stifled groan come from behind him, seeing the other wizard shift in his chair as he looked. Maybe it’s the sunburn, he thought, as both of them had taken off their shirts for most of that afternoon. The image of miles of ivory skin came back to him, and Harry knew he should be embarrassed, but just the memory of the finely sculpted chest and flat abdomen set his heart to racing and hardened his cock. Pulling his feet up, he stood, discretely adjusted himself, and grabbed the bottle of aloe vera they had bought. 

“If you will come over here and let me rub this into your back, it will feel much better.” 

Harry waited, standing by the bed, not bothering to try and conceal his erection. They were sentenced to live in close quarters for another two months, and he was almost seventeen, Harry reasoned, he was not going to be ashamed of his body. Eyeing him warily, the Potions Master set aside his magazine and stood up. Harry’s eyes widened at the erection he saw tenting the now teenager’s shorts, he swallowed convulsively. 

With a smirk, Severus walked over and stopped to stand beside the boy, his eyes raking up and down the lean form. 

“One of the aspects of being a teenager that I had forgotten about: the state of perpetual arousal. It is a good thing that we are equipped with hands to assist with the problem.”

Curiously, the teen’s erection deflated as he watched, and Severus’ eyes snapped up to Harry’s face, seeing again that look of stark terror and humiliation. Unwilling to further embarrass Harry, Severus sat down on the bed with his back to him. Something terrible had happened to the boy, he was certain; the hands soothing cooling gel on to his red shoulders trembled slightly. Someone had caught him, probably wanking, and had done Merlin only knew what to him. Or, Severus narrowed his eyes, someone had been abusing him sexually. 

Rage exploded in his chest, and Severus had to clench his teeth and fists, and it was a struggle to breathe evenly. The hands working aloe into his back unexpectedly soothed him, and the Potions Master took several deep breaths, wrestling with the emotion inside him. He would be getting to the bottom of this as soon as he felt he could do so rationally, and not immediately kill the muggle or muggles he felt were probably responsible. Closing his eyes, he let the ministrations of the slightly callused hands calm and comfort him.

Feeling in control of himself once more, Severus turned the boy, and applied the aloe to his red shoulders and back. With a quiet word, he had Harry sit still while Severus retrieved a small vial of potion, along with a jar of healing salve for the abrasions on Harry’s elbows and knees, courtesy of his tumble from his bike. He could feel the eyes following his movements, and knew from his mannerisms that Harry realized the anger radiating from the Potions Master was not directed at him. 

The evening remained quiet, as both occupants of the smallest bedroom at number four Privet Drive had much to think about. Silently, each got ready for bed, crawling between the rough cotton sheets with murmured good nights, before both fell into an exhausted sleep.

* * *


	6. Visions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brief descriptions of Death Eaters torturing Muggles

* * *

The dark cottage was haloed in scarlet light as Harry walked into the clearing beside it; a group of muggles cowered in the center of a ring of his most faithful followers. The Death Eaters were salivating over the teenaged children, a boy and a girl. Their parents were trying to shield them, but all four were screaming in terror and pain. Delighted, Harry stepped closer, the black-robed figures parting silently at his approach. Grasping the dark wood of his wand in long, skeletal fingers, he waved it gracefully at the father.

“ _Crucio_!”

The man dropped to the ground screaming, his body flopping like a hooked fish pulled from the water. Harry was amused by mindless terror on the unnaturally white faces of the children. Without lifting his wand, he gestured to the silent shadow at his left side.

“Lucius, for your loyalty, I make a gift of these children to you and your son.” 

“Thank you, Master,” the oily voice of Lucius Malfoy simpered.

Others grabbed the boy and girl and ripped off their clothes, revealing blood flowing and bruises forming from hexes and other tortures. The two teenagers were bound magically for the two Malfoy Death Easters, who broke ranks to claim their prizes. The mother was struggling with another black-robed figure, until she collapsed under the onslaught of the Cruciatus Curse. Harry laughed, a high-pitched, cold laugh that bordered on hysteria, as the scar on his forehead seared white-hot, and his body jerked as if under the same curse.

Severus Snape sat straight up in bed; the blood-curdling scream of someone being tortured raised the hair on the beck of his neck, and it took just a moment for him to locate the source. Harry’s body was bowed, as if all his muscles had contracted at the same instant, and he was screaming in agony. Scrambling over the beds to him, Severus tried, with no success, to shake him awake. He tried speaking softly, tried caressing the wild raven hair, and finally tried slapping the boy, but nothing worked. With a start, Severus realized that Harry was not having a nightmare, but one of the visions he had described earlier in the week. Lifting the boy’s head, Severus slid underneath it to cradle it in his lap, knowing that there was nothing he could do but wait.

Thankful that the teen’s horrid muggle relations were not due to return from their impromptu holiday until sometime tomorrow, Severus reached over and retrieved his wand from under his pillow. Placing a silencing charm on the room, he stroked the soft hair absently, and was relieved when Harry finally relaxed, whimpering in pain. Rarely in his adult life had Severus felt so helpless, but he knew that there was nothing to be done except wait. He thought back over the past few days of relatively peaceful co-habitation. They had become very proficient at riding their red and green bikes about Little Whinging, staying within a kilometer radius of the house, where they believed the protective wards kept them safe. Together the two had tried many things neither had ever been allowed to before, like roller-skating, playing games at a video arcade, swimming in the large community pool, and even going to a small circus that they discovered at the far edge of the village.

Besides their leisure time activities, they had spent time simply talking, and Severus had discovered Harry to be quite unlike anything he expected. Although he exhibited many normal teenage traits, such as being temperamental and obstinate upon occasion, Harry was rather quiet and shy when left alone. Severus had been astonished to learn that rather that embracing his fame, Harry saw it as a burden, the Prophecy sitting on his shoulders like the weight of the world. His young life had been marked in milestones of loss and pain, more so than anyone knew. The only questions the boy absolutely refused to answer were those that delved into his treatment by his relatives, which made the Potions Master all the more determined to find out why. 

Harry convulsed, once, twice, and then screamed in agony, his hands flying up to claw at his forehead. Severus batted them away, and laid his hand over the lightning bolt-shaped scar; he was surprised to find the scar pulsing with heat and dark magic. Looping his other arm around the boy’s chest, Severus pulled him into his lap and began to rock from side to side, again relying on the memories of the only kindness ever shown him, memories of his mother. He murmured soft words of reassurance in the ear tucked against his chin until the tension drained from the body in his arms, and Harry’s breathing began to even out.

A moan warned the Potions Master of the onslaught of the next phase of the reaction Harry had described, and Severus leaned them both over the side of the bed as the teenager retched. Stroking the soft hair, he banished the vomit from the floor and righted them both, still cradling Harry, then resumed the slow rocking.

Harry gradually regained consciousness, focusing on the gentle rocking motion and the soothing hand stroking through his hair. His scar was on fire, and his head pounded fiercely; Harry took several deep breaths trying to will the pain away. His arms were pinned against his sides, and he whimpered as he tried to move.

“Ssshh, I have you, Harry. It’s all right,” Severus crooned softly in his ear. 

Harry stilled, and with a quiet sigh, leaned into the comfort that was being offered. The arm banded around his waist loosened, and he was able to move his arms, bringing them up to scrub his face and his aching, burning scar. His breath settled into a more normal pattern, and his head rested in the hollow of the older wizard’s neck. Marveling at the how safe he felt in the arms of the man who normally made no secret of the fact that he hated Harry, he slowly sat up. With a small pang of grief at the loss of the warmth, he pushed himself off the bed and moved shakily to the desk, where he turned on the light. 

Scribbling a note to Professor Dumbledore on a piece of parchment, Harry described the vision he’d had in as much detail as possible. Snape followed him over, and silently read the note over his shoulder. Harry offered the parchment to him, and the man took it, adding a sentence at the bottom; Harry reclaimed the scroll and strapped it to Hedwig’s leg.

“Take it to the Headmaster at Hogwarts, please, girl.”

When he turned from the window, Harry found a vial of potion held out to him, and looked at the presenter.

“It is an analgesic, Harry; it should ease the pain in your head.”

Severus watched as the teen downed the liquid without question and reached to turn out the light. They settled back into their beds, and the Potions master lay looking up at the ceiling, listening to the breathing from the next bed, which sounded abnormally loud in the silent room. It was quite awhile before he was able to drop off to sleep; his mind mulled over all the things he’d learned in the past week and a half, and weighed the misconceptions against the reality that he now knew to be true. It gave him quite a bit to think about.

* * *

Both men slept later than usual; Harry simply enjoyed the rare opportunity to lie in, and Severus made up for the sleepless night spent considering his roommate. A hearty breakfast arrived mid-morning, served with a pleased grin by Dobby, who was dressed today in red and green, like a wayward Christmas elf. Grabbing their bikes, the two rode around the neighborhood for the rest of the morning, greeting people Harry had come to know for the first time in almost sixteen years of living on Privet Drive. Neighbors who had believed him to be a juvenile delinquent had been astounded to find Harry a quiet, polite young man who was the first to stop and help if he saw someone in need. 

When they stopped at the play park to drink from the fountain, Harry saw Piers Polkiss and Gordon something or other, two of Dudley’s faithful gang, with several other teenagers. Their eyes raked over him and with a smirk, the group walked toward him, and Harry turned to face them.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Dudley’s little cousin, what are you doing out on your own, Potter?”

“Friends of your, Harry?” Severus asked in an even tone, catching the undercurrent of tension.

“Actually these are part of my cousin’s little gang, Professor,” Harry answered before direction his attention to Dudley’s pals and asking, “Is there something you need, Piers?”

The scrawny-looking teen with a face like a rat sneered at him, and the three other boys did their best to appear intimidating.

“Professor?” Piers mocked. “You call your boyfriend that because he’s so smart, Potter, or is it a pet name?”

The gang of boys laughed harshly, and Harry’s hatred of them welled. These were the same boys who had helped Dudley with his ‘Harry Hunting’ all through primary school, punching and kicking him, along with anyone who was stupid enough to try and befriend the slight, bespectacled boy. Many of the scars Harry bore on his body were souvenirs of those days. Harry straightened his back, leaning his bike casually against the fountain as Piers continued to spout insults.

Several was mildly amused at the rather pathetic attempts of the group of aberrant teenagers to belittle them, and was not surprised to see the color bloom in Harry’s cheeks as his anger rose. A sudden breeze ruffled his hair, and he was astounded to feel the crackling of raw magic that seemed to swirl around him companion. The idiotic boy with the ugly face was still taunting Harry, unaware of the immense power radiating from him, although the other members of the gang had noticed the wind pick up around them. 

Stepping forward, Severus put a hand on Harry’s shoulder and silenced the offensive boy with a Death Eater glare.

“It would be best if you ceased your idiotic ramblings and removed yourselves from our presence before you are made to regret your stupidity.”

The gang was able to feel enough of the uncontrolled magic emanating from Harry to be scared, although they could neither see nor explain the menace they felt. They backed away hastily, then turned and ran. Turning his attentions back to Harry, Severus was taken back by the look of hatred on his face.

“Calm yourself, Harry, you must take control your magic, not let it control you,” Severus told him, squeezing the boy’s shoulder gently.

Closing his eyes, Harry took a deep breath, letting the hand on his shoulder anchor him. He had not lost control of his magic in quite awhile, and knew he should have let Dudley’s friends make him so made. He certainly did not need another incident like the time he’d blown up Aunt Marge. He was fairly certain that the Minister of Magic would not be nearly as forgiving this time. He opened his eyes, and took several deep, cleansing breathes.

“Sorry, Professor, I shouldn’t have let him get to me.”

Severus studied the young man’s face, wondering if young Harry actually realized what a powerful wizard he was.

“I would guess that this was the group of miscreants that assists your portly cousin in assaulting younger children.”

Harry had to laugh. “Yeah, beating up ten-year-olds is their main sport, Professor, but in the summertime, I am their favorite target.”

Almost wincing at the title after the venom of Polkiss’ comments, Severus made a decision.

“You may address me as Severus for the summer, Harry. ‘Professor’ seems overly formal in light of our situation.”

Harry blinked at him, his face reflecting the surprise he felt.

“All right, S..Severus, what do you want to do now?”

“I believe I’d like one of those caramel ice cream cones.”

With a nod of agreement, the two set off toward the market. As he pedaled, an idea began to take root in Harry’s mind. The past week or so that they had been together had brought many revelations about the Potions master, and Harry was sure the older man had learned many new things about him as well. His deep dislike had evolved first into grudging respect, and then a true regard for the man. Harry felt safe and cared for by Snape, and an attraction to him that he wasn’t sure he wanted to exam too closely, as the intensity of it unnerved him slightly.

Eventually, the two biked back to the house and shared a late lunch before lying out in the backyard during the heat of the day. Harry had finished all of his summer assignments, including his potions essay. Severus had hung over his shoulder as he wrote it, clearing his throat whenever the topic turned the wrong direction, much to Harry’s amusement. The Potions Master was buried in a large tome about obscure potions, and Harry was writing letters to Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Setting them aside, he covertly studied the man beside him. 

Seventeen-year-old Severus Snape was not that much different from the adult version Harry was used too, just a bit softer around the edges. Absent were the hard lines around his eyes from too many years of leading a double life. The body was skinnier and not as well filled out, but still carried with the elegant grace that Harry associated with Severus. And there was something about him, something that Harry had noticed in the past year or so, something that made his cock hard and needy. Closing his eyes, Harry wished that Ginny were here, her small hand stroking him up and down, the other hand gently fondling his balls, pumping him to a climax. He stifled a groan as his erection throbbed, wishing he could wank off like the rest of the guys in the dorm. He’d tried before, but the memory of the humiliation he’d received from his uncle always interfered.

Looking over to see Harry bury his flushed face in a towel, Severus frowned. He was still concerned over the vision of the night before, and the encounter in the play park. If this were any indication of how the summers usually went for the boy, marooned here with hateful muggles who seemed to think starving him was an acceptable form of control, and when that didn’t work, beating him, it was a wonder he wasn’t suicidal. Add to that a well-meaning but manipulative old wizard, the trials and tribulations of his ‘fame’, and normal teenage angst, and Severus was surprised Harry was not a bitter, withdrawn teenager. There was a good deal of strength and intelligence to Harry Potter, the older wizard surmised shrewdly, and felt again the insane surge of attraction that had been growing since he’d arrived. Mixed with that attraction was a vague sense of shame that he had so misjudged the Gryffindor, simply because his physical resemblance to his dead father.

Harry could feel the dark eyes that followed him as he stood, his shorts again tented with his obvious erection, and walked into the house, telling Severus he was going to straighten up. He had lost the feeling of embarrassment after the first few days, encouraged by the older wizard’s easy acceptance of teenage hard-ons, and was delighted every time he saw the other sporting one. Trying to keep his mind off his problem, Harry began dusting and cleaning the otherwise immaculate house. His relatives were due back sometime tomorrow, and he was not looking forward to it. The past week had been perfect, he thought, the best he’d ever had in this house. As he worked, his mind once again turned to his birthday getaway plan, and he plotted his escape from Privet Drive. Making his way into the sitting room, he glanced out the window.

Watching Harry disappear into the house, Severus groaned at his reaction to the erection the younger man sported. He looked around, finding himself concealed in the corner of the yard by the house, out of view of any prying eyes. Unzipping his shorts, he released his hard cock, sweeping a thumb over the sensitive tip. The thought of Harry returning and catching him made him even harder, as he poured a small amount of lotion into his hand, and slowly coated himself. Closing his eyes, he wrapped his hand around the straining hardness, and began stroking with a firm grasp. Sliding his other hand up his chest to his nipples, he pinched and tweaked first one and then the other. The image of green eyes looking up at him, as Harry knelt at his feet, his lips wrapped around Severus’ cock was overwhelming. Stroking faster, he stifled a shout as he came hard, spewing semen over his stomach and chest.

The astonished green eyes that watched him from the sitting room window drank in the sight.

* * *


	7. Lessons

* * *

It wasn’t nightmares that haunted Harry’s dreams for the next couple of nights, but dark, flashing eyes gazing into his own, and long, silky raven hair twining around his fingers as his cock was stroked to aching hardness. The first morning, he was able to wake up before Severus and dash to the bathroom for a cold shower; however, the following morning he wasn’t so lucky. A hand on his arm awoke him, and he opened his eyes to the obsidian eyes that haunted his dream.

“Are you alright, Harry?” Severus asked him, a worried look on his face. “You were groaning in your sleep.”

Harry rolled over and buried his face in his pillow, mortified to be caught having an erotic dream by the very subject of his fantasy. Nodding his head to indicate he was fine, the Gryffindor tried to will his throbbing erection into submission. A noise in the hallway beyond the closed and sealed door reminded Harry that his relatives had returned the evening before, and the thought of his uncle appearing in the doorway took care of his hard-on instantly. He sighed into the pillow.

Severus watched him with hooded eyes, gauging from the teenager’s reaction that the groan he’d heard was not one of pain. Yet again, when Harry had heard someone in the hallway, he had tensed in anticipation and fear. This confirmed his suspicions that the Dursleys had punished Harry for normal sexual exploration. He wondered now if Harry had ever brought himself to completion, or if his activities had been completely discouraged by his relatives’ punishment. A smirk spread over the Potions master’s face as he recalled the astonished expression on Harry’s face through the sitting room window; the day before yesterday, Harry had watched Severus stroke himself to climax in a secluded corner of the backyard, not realizing that Severus was aware of his enthralled gaze. He was still waiting to see if the boy’s famed Gryffindor courage would assert itself and lead him to broach the subject, opening the topic for Severus to address.

Without conscious thought, long, slender fingers buried themselves in the hair at the back of Harry’s head, and began stroking softly through the wild tangle. The teenager stiffened for a fraction of a second, as if he expected a blow to fall, and then relaxed. Watching as Harry’s breathing deepened and he squirmed a little on the bed, Severus wondered if the boy were as attracted to him as he seemed. If it were a case of mutual attraction, was he attracted to a seventeen-year-old body? Or did the attraction go deeper than that, as the older man was beginning to realize it did for him. He had learned so much about Harry Potter in the past week and a half, enough to make him throw out all his previous assumptions about the boy. His new knowledge was enough to make him realize that Harry was indeed not spoiled or arrogant, but shy and sincere, the product of a negligent and abusive upbringing. 

The fingers carding through his hair were sending shivers down his spine, and Harry decided he liked it. He liked it a lot. Turning his head slightly, not wanting to stop the soothing caress, Harry looked up into the face leaning close to him. For a moment he simply stared, his nearsighted eyes softening the lines and angles as he searched the onyx eyes. There was something here, something just out of his grasp, something that beckoned him.

“Severus…”

“Yes, Harry?”

“I…I want…will you teach…

There was a sudden, insistent tapping at the window, and Severus swore under his breath; the moment of intimacy was lost as Harry scrambled up to open the window. A small, grey owl flew in, twittering madly as it raced around the room. Hedwig hooted with disdain as Harry plucked the tiny thing out of the air.

“Hello, Pig, message from Ron?” Harry untied the scroll from his leg, and rose to get an owl treat from his desk drawer. He tossed one to Hedwig as well, who was thus more willing to share her water with the visitor.

The letter from Ron was short, telling Harry that his family was once again housed at Order Headquarters, The Burrow having been compromised the previous summer. Harry had been more than happy to leave the awful House of Black to the Weasleys and Remus, knowing there were too many painful memories of his godfather there for him to be comfortable. Harry read the letter to Severus as they both dressed for the day; they both laughed at Ron’s description of the twins' latest product. Mad-Eye Moody had accidentally eaten one, and apparently he had been none too happy with purple hair and a pink eye.

When the Potions master went to take his turn in the bathroom, Harry sat down at his desk and dashed off a quick note. He assured Ron that he was having the best summer yet at the Dursleys’, and he would explain why when he saw the redhead next. He asked about Hermione, and asked Ron to tell tell Ginny and his mum hello. Finishing by telling Ron again that he was fine, Harry tied the letter to Pig’s leg and let him out the window.

Waiting for the older wizard to return, Harry contemplated the question he had started to ask that morning. He wanted the older man to teach him how to touch himself, and Harry very much wanted Severus to show him how a man pleasured another man. It was something he had been curious about before, but he had thought about it even more since they had been thrown together. If he could convince the Potions master that he was mature enough to handle a sexual experience, the man might believe him mature enough to be on his own; perhaps he would even help him with his plan to leave on his birthday.

They spent the morning riding around Little Whinging, waving to the friends they had made, ignoring Dudley and his gang as they watched from the play park. During their stroll through the small shopping mall, Harry bought a belt and a pair of jeans. He talked Severus into buying jeans and trainers, and then they had lunch in a small pub nearby. Eventually, the pair stopped in at a little bookstore that they had found during explorations their first day. They spent some time browsing the shelves aimlessly. Harry could feel the beady eyes of the proprietor watching them as he looked through the categories of books, and blushed when he found the sign above him said: ‘Human Sexuality’.

Determined to ignore the feeling of being watched, Harry began to scan the titles, seeing that most appeared to be clinical studies or text books. Coming across a book called The Kama Sutra, Harry opened it with an interested eye, which immediately widened. He glanced at the shelves again, the illustrations in the book he’d just closed burning in his brain. Shoving the muggle book back in place, he tugged down the next one, one that tingled in his hand. The title of this one made him gasp: A Wizard’s Kama Sutra: Pleasure all Your Partners.

“What did you find?” 

Harry jumped a foot at the sound of Severus’ voice at his elbow. He’d become engrossed in the moving wizard pictures of two men masturbating together. His cheeks flaming, he tried to snap the book shut, but was unsuccessful. The older wizard quickly reached around him and held the page open. 

“Ah, one of my favorites, I could teach you to do that, if you’d like.”

His head swiveled so fast he though maybe he’d hurt something. Harry found himself nose to nose with the Potions master, a smile on the man’s face, and Harry felt faint.

“Harry, where did you find this?” 

“It was right here…”

“Hey, you boys get away from there!” the shop owner yelled at them sternly, his dark scowl giving his face a pinched look.

The Potions master stared at the man, snatched the book from Harry’s hand, and swept to the counter. Following, Harry was mystified at how the man could do that in shorts and a tank top.

“Phelps, isn’t it? Hufflepuff, graduated about eleven years ago, completely useless at potions,” Severus fairly growled at the man. The proprietor blinked in bewilderment at the teenager in front of him before nodding with a jerk. 

“What are you doing with this hooligan, if you’re a wizard?” the man spat at him, not phased that the seemingly teenaged boy had recognized him.

Severus arched an eyebrow at Harry, “What is it you have done to these people, Mister Potter, that they do not know who you are?”

Harry dropped his eyes and shook his head in the negative, knowing that the Slytherin knew the answer to the question, and gazed at the cracked vinyl floor. A hand rested on his shoulder and drew him closer to a lean, warm form. Startled emerald eyes looked up and caught the obsidian eyes that watched him closely.

“Mister Phelps, Harry is a wizard of some notoriety; he is not, however, a hooligan. We would like to purchase this book, so if you would wrap it, please?” 

The man behind the counter had finally been able to reason through what Severus had said, and stepping around the counter, executed a deep and formal bow. 

“My sincerest apologies, Mister Potter.”

Harry just stared at him, wondering what he should do, when Severus smacked him on the arm. Looking up he saw the Potions Master mime a short bow, which Harry imitated.

“Mister Potter accepts, Mister Phelps, and wishes you well.”

Standing mute, feeling incredibly stupid, Harry watched as the other teen paid for the book, and ushered him out the door. Tugging on his arm, Severus led him over to a bench a few feet away, keeping an eye on their bicycles. 

“Are you truly so arrogant that you would have refused that man’s apology, Potter?”

Frowning at the snarling, greasy-git voice that he was all too familiar with, Harry started to angrily defend himself; his words died on his lips, as he looked up into disappointed onyx eyes. Hanging his head, he scrubbed at the scar that was now prickling on his forehead, his voice coming out in a hoarse whisper.

“You’ve seen what I grew up with, Professor, you know that I was raised living in a cupboard without knowing I was a wizard until I got my Hogwarts letter. Manners were literally pounded into me, along with the fact that I was not good enough to associate with normal people because I was a freak; I know all that, but wizard traditions? You tell me where I would have learned how to be a proper wizard!”

An arm looped around his shoulders and Harry was once again brought close to the older wizard.

“I apologize, I had not stopped to even realize that, Harry,” Severus sighed, reaching up to tug Harry’s hand from his face. “Perhaps I can teach you about wizarding tradition as well.”

Searching the onyx eyes for any sign of ridicule or scorn, Harry saw only sincerity, and something that might be warmth in their depths. He nodded, mesmerized, and very aware of the body beside him, he leaned closer. A noise from the street distracted them, and Harry felt his hand squeezed before it was dropped and they continued on their way.

After picking up ice cream, saving some sandwiches for later, the pair made their way to a large tree at the edge of the play park. They settled in the shade, finishing their treats in companionable silence. Severus took the opportunity to again study the boy who seemed to be a constant source of surprise. Harry had relaxed in the past ten or so days, and didn’t seem as defensive as he had been, almost expecting the Potions master to attack him at every turn. The Harry who sat beside him now was warm, quiet, and sincere, not one that felt he had to keep up the Boy Who Lived disguise that he seemed to assume at Hogwarts. Nor was this the beaten, abused, and unwanted boy he’d met that first night at the Dursleys'. Watching a smile erupt across his lips as the young wizard observed a toddler at play, Severus knew that he preferred this Harry, his Harry, to any other.

Pulling his gaze from the little boy tumbling on the grass nearby as he heard the older wizard clear his throat, Harry smiled at him. Once he knew he had Harry’s attention, Severus began to tell him about wizarding traditions, describing naming ceremonies, bonding rituals, and marriage rites. Harry listened intently to the silky voice as it flowed over him. He felt his jaw drop as he heard about customs and traditions passed down from generation to generation in most pureblood families. Who would have thought that it was a grave insult to touch someone else’s wand, Harry mused.

“Bonded wizards, especially soul-mates, are able to produce children; they can conceive naturally, if their combined magic is very strong, or with a special potion, if needed. Bonded witches likewise have the ability to conceive, but it is extremely rare without magical assistance.”

These words grabbed Harry’s attention, and he could not help but ask the question that popped into his mind.

“So, it’s okay to, uh, to like someone who…I mean, for a boy to uh, like a boy, then?”

Severus found himself laughing softly as he reached over and patted the boy’s knee reassuringly.

“Yes, Harry, it’s fine. In fact, most witches and wizards are bisexual. Finding a partner or spouse has little to do with gender and more to do with love.”

It was evening, the sun making its slow slide toward the horizon, by the time the two teens put their bikes in the shed; they walked silently past Harry’s aunt and uncle, who were watching television in the sitting room, up to their room. Putting their things away while Severus showered, Harry picked up the book and flopped down on his bed. He flipped through the pages, a blush staining his cheeks as he looked at the illustrations, before going back to the first page to start reading.

Severus returned to the bedroom to find the boy engrossed in the wizard’s book, and snatched it from his hands. Sending him off to the shower, the older wizard set out their sandwiches on the desk before making himself comfortable on the bed. Propping himself up against their pillows, he opened the book and gave it his undivided attention. When Harry came back from the bath, they unwrapped the thick delicatessen sandwiches and ate heartily.

Leaving Harry to straighten up, Severus shed his shorts; clad in his boxers, he climbed back onto his bed, taking up the wizard’s book again. He was reading the first section, his body reacting to the illustrations, when a head slid into his lap below the book, and Severus jumped as soft hair brushed his erection. Harry looked up at him devilishly, as he gently rubbed his check against the straining member.

“I want to see it, too,” he said cheekily.

Stretching his legs out, the older wizard moved to haul Harry up to his side. Leaning the boy against him, Severus was acutely aware of the fact that both wore only thin, cotton boxers. His skin tingled at every point that came into contact with Harry’s skin, and his blood sang in his veins. Pulling his wand out from under his pillow, the Potions Master cast locking and silencing charms around the door. Replacing it, he slid an arm around Harry’s waist and picked the book back up, turning to the first illustration. Silently, he let Harry watch the two wizards masturbate together as they went through the motions until they both climaxed. 

Setting the book to the side, Severus ran a finger along the length of his own hard cock. Harry watched in fascination, his own erection tenting his boxers. 

“Harry?”

The young man turned his head and buried his hot face in the Slytherin’s neck. With gentle fingers, Severus tilted Harry’s chin up so he could see the suddenly shy emerald eyes.

“How can I teach you anything if you won’t talk to me? Are you uncomfortable due to our previous history?”

“What?” Harry blinked, “Oh, no, I…I thought you were sexy even when you hated me.”

It was Severus’ turn to blink, before smiling briefly. “Alright, then something happened to you that made you afraid to touch yourself, and it will continue to plague you if we do not deal with it first. From watching you, I would say it was either your uncle or your cousin who hurt you, am I right?”

Harry nodded, looking down as his hands twisted together in his lap. “My uncle caught me, uh, playing with myself a couple years ago, and he blew up, hitting my…”

“Penis?” Severus supplied quietly.

“Ummm, yeah, and slapped me around while telling me how disgusting it was to do ‘that’ and what a freak I was, and stuff,” Harry told him, still staring at his hands.

“He never tried anything else, Harry? He didn’t try and…touch you inappropriately?”

“No, but Dudley was watching from the doorway that night, laughing at me. A couple days later, his gang jumped me; they ripped off my pants, and tried to, uh…” Harry choked on the memory, flashing on the memory of groping hands and pounding fists.

Tightening his grip, Severus rocked the younger man gently back and forth. “Did they…?”

“NO, uh no, they didn’t get the chance. My magic pulsed or whatever it does, and sent an electric charge through my body. They got really scared and ran away, and have not tried anything since.” 

Severus continued to rock Harry after he subsided into silence, his rage flaring at the actions of the entire Dursley family; it took a concentrated, conscious effort to push his anger to the back of his mind. He made a silent vow, before surprising both of them by pressing a kiss into the soft raven hair.

“You did nothing wrong, Harry, and I am sorry you had to go through that. Touching yourself is normal, healthy, makes you feel good, and can be a great stress reliever. It’s not just teenagers who masturbate; everyone, male and female, touches themselves, because it makes them feel good . . . Now, before we start, we need to get rid of these.”

Reaching down, Severus snagged the waistband of Harry’s boxers, and tugged them down; spilling the young man out of his lap, he rose and slipped out of his own as well. The emerald green eyes widened at the size of the erection Severus sported, and he looked at the older wizard through his dark lashes. The Potions master piled both their pillows behind him and tugged Harry back between his legs, turning him so that his legs draped over Severus’ thighs, and they faced each other. Seeing the boy’s erection had wilted during their conversation, without stopping to think, Severus leaned forward and captured Harry’s slightly chapped lips in a tentative kiss.

Harry froze when the warm lips feathered across his, then moaned as an electric spark jolted through him, sending raw sensation straight to his groin. Sliding his hands into the long black hair, he tugged the lips closer, opening his own in invitation. The tip of Severus’ tongue swept across his bottom lip before plunging inside, and Harry tasted the unique flavor that was the Potions master. This was certainly an entirely different feeling than Cho or Ginny had inspired. Everywhere their skin touched, he could feel tingles of magic. The kiss deepened; hands slid into his own hair to cup his head, tilting his face to a better angle. Harry drowned in the incredible feelings that made his heart race and his cock stiffen. 

Pulling back gently, the older man attempted to control his ragged breathing. He leaned away from the young wizard, dropping a hand down to his throbbing cock, and was relieved when Harry mimicked his actions. His eyes widened at the sight of the young man’s impressive erection, and it was all he could do to keep his hands to himself.

“Very nice, Mister Potter, very nice. Now, go ahead and touch yourself,” he whispered, watching as Harry gingerly touched his cock with his fingertips. “Go ahead, it’s not going to break!”

Severus wrapped his hand around the base of his own cock and stroked up towards the tip while Harry mimicked his motion. Showing the young wizard several ways to grip himself, and how sensitive the tip was, he started leisurely stroking himself. Wetting the tip of his thumb, he swept it over the head, watching as Harry did the same. Watching Harry find a rhythm that he seemed to like, Severus felt inflamed as he watched the boy’s face flush with arousal; the emerald eyes drifted closed, and his breathing became harsh. Whispering encouragement, his own hand sped up as Harry flung his head back, and stiffened suddenly. Severus felt his own climax slam into him as Harry arched and both spewed creamy, hot seed on each other.

Speechless, Harry could only stare, still shuddering in the aftermath. He heard Severus mutter a cleaning spell, before he was turned around and cuddled against a warm chest.

“Alright, Harry?” came a husky whisper, and Harry could only nod as sleep overtook him.

* * *


	8. Making Plans

* * *

For the first time in his life, Harry awoke in the embrace of another person. He felt safe and rested, and the warm body that spooned against his back was causing a riot of sensation to flood through him, but he was afraid the embrace would disappear if he moved. Never having been held by another person, with the exception of a few motherly hugs from Molly Weasley, he luxuriated in the feeling of arms around him and simply being close to another human. A gentle breath stirred the hair in the top of his head; cracking one eye open, he realized it must still be early, given the absence of light. Snuggling closer, he closed his eyes and drifted off again.

He was standing in the center of a dark, stone chamber withtorches flickering on the black walls; the eerie light had a red cast to it. He towered over the kneeling figure at his feet, and smirked at the faithful followers gathered around. The supplicant was clad in an odd assortment of rags, and Harry sneered, his nose twitching at the foul smell of the man. He bounced a small, leather pouch filled with golden galleons in his left hand, and twirled his long, black wand in the fingers of his right.

“Have you brought me news worthy of your price, spy? Have you found the traitor?”

“Dumbledore told us at the meeting tonight that Snape still teeters on the brink of death. No one knows where the old man has hidden him, but I know he is no longer at Hogwarts.”

“And the Potter brat, were you more successful in finding news of his whereabouts from that Muggle-loving fool?”

“He is again at the home of his muggle relatives in Little Whinging, Surrey. I know, because I have been part of his guard in years past. The address is hidden under the Fidelius Charm, though.”

Harry felt his anger surge at the lack of useful of news from his newest spy; it was obvious that the disgusting excuse for a wizard needed to be taught a lesson in etiquette. He threw the leather pouch to the floor in front of the prostrate man, who scrambled to pick it up.

“You will get yourself assigned to his guard again; in the meantime, I will have my Death Eaters watch the area, as the brat is sure to go outside. And when he does, he will be vulnerable, especially if his guard is not watching.”

There was a murmur of ascent from the circle of black-robed figures, and Harry smiled, Nagini circling around his feet.

“In the future, you will be sober and clean when you present yourself to me, spy, and address me as Lord or Master, understand?”

“Y…yes, Master…”

“ _Crucio_!”

Someone was screaming, Harry thought dimly as he surfaced from sleep, and then the pain slammed into him, making his body twitch. Strong arms held him firmly, and long, slender fingers carded through his hair in a comforting gesture as Harry struggled to shake the horror of the vision. His stomach churned and he moaned, then felt himself leaned over the edge of the bed as he retched. The tingle of magic brushing by him attested to the cleaning spell cast. Leaning his head back, he allowed himself to be pulled up against a firm chest and rocked gently. Harry concentrated on bringing his breathing under control, and tried to stop the shivers wracking his body.

“Harry?” 

Dragging in a deep breath, Harry buried his face in the warm flesh of the older wizard’s neck, his arms coming up to anchor himself to the man. The gentle rocking continued, as did the soothing hand in his hair. Harry had no idea how long he laid like that, absorbing the silent comfort that helped his heart slow to a normal rhythm and his mind calm. Although he was reluctant to disturb the hard-won tranquility, Harry knew he had to get a message to the Headmaster as soon as possible, and sat up. Opening his eyes, he knew by the light that it was just after dawn.

“I assume you just experienced a vision?” Severus asked quietly, one hand brushing his fringe off his forehead.

“Yes, he was talking to his new spy about where you and I are hiding, and I think I know who the spy is,” Harry announced grimly, “Mundungus Fletcher.”

Severus kept his arms around the young man, not wanting to release him while he still trembled. Arching an eyebrow questioningly, he kept silent as Harry went on to describe the vision, concentrating on the description of the spy and the information that was given. Agreeing with the young wizard’s assessment, Severus knew it was a grave situation having Death Eaters scouring the area for them. He also knew that Fletcher had been on the outs with Dumbledore since abandoning his watch on Harry the summer before his fifth year; he was not surprised that the crook had turned.

“I have to send a message to Professor Dumbledore,” Harry told him and he swung his legs around and carefully climbed off the bed.

Grabbing his glasses, Harry made his way to the desk and removed a piece of parchment, inkbottle, and quill from a drawer. As Severus watched, he began to write out an account of his vision for the Headmaster. Having continued the boy’s Occlumency lessons after a quiet and tearful apology the summer before, the Potions Master knew he had put his heart into and mastered the ability to close his mind to the Dark Lord’s invasion, but nothing seemed to block these visions. These painful occurrences plus the nightmares that he had witnessed, gave credence to the growing suspicion that Harry rarely slept more than three or four hours a night. With a start of surprise, Severus realized that the boy had actually slept the entire night peacefully in his arms before the vision started. 

Looking up, he watched as Harry read back over what he had written, and a sudden thought occurred to him. Standing, he moved over to stand beside desk as the boy looked up at him, extending the parchment for him to read. Almost as if of its own volition, his hand reached out and settled on the warm, bare shoulder. Harry started, but did not pull away; tingles ran up Severus’ arm from the contact.

“I’d like to add a message of my own, if that is alright?”

Emerald green eyes studied him intently, and the contact was broken as Harry nodded and stood up, but Severus stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“What day is your birthday?”

“The thirty-first of this month,” he was told, a puzzled look on the young wizard’s face.

Severus nodded and sat at the rickety desk, dipping the quill in the ink, before writing in his elegant script:

> _Albus,_
> 
> _I am concerned with the latest information that Potter has provided, as Fletcher will know someone is here with the boy if he is told no guard is needed. We will restrict our daily activities to the house and the immediate block around it, as the wards protect this area._
> 
> _Another concern is the evidence of neglect and abuse that I have encountered here. Potter did not even make it to his room from the train before being beaten and bloodied by his cousin and his gang. I have uncovered a pattern of abuse that extends from the withholding of food to instances of sexual abuse. There is no doubt in my mind that Potter’s loving relatives are preparing to throw him out at the stroke of midnight on his birthday, and I suspect that Potter plans to leave as well, regardless of your instructions._
> 
> _A solution to the situation would be the cottage my great-aunt left me on Inishmaan, if arrangements could be made to properly ward it. The cottage is small, but very isolated, and the natives do not tolerate strangers._
> 
> _I await your response._
> 
> _SS_

Rolling the parchment, the Potions master tied it to leg of the snowy white owl that Harry held ready, and took her to the window with softly spoken instructions. The two wizards bathed, dressed, and ate a simple breakfast of scones and tea in their room, as they quietly discussed what precautions they would need to take. The shopping trips and forays out on their bikes were over; even now there could be Death Eaters in Little Whinging looking for them. After eating, Severus led the way to the back yard, waving Harry into a chair.

“I know that you have illegally Apparated before, but you will have to be able to pass a written test for your Apparation license on your birthday. Listen carefully to the magical theory, so you will better understand the action.”

Hiding a smile, Harry appeared to listen attentively as the teacher went into lecture mode. Letting the wonderful, silky voice wash over him, he did not have the heart to tell the older man that the Weasley twins had taught Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and him to Apparate the previous summer. Severus had guessed that Harry had Apparated in and rescued him from Voldemort three weeks ago, but Professor Dumbledore had told him to keep his ability a secret. Following his instructions, Harry Apparated around the backyard, proud of himself, as he was able to do it with a soft pop, instead of the usual loud crack. 

After his third trip back and forth across the yard, the older wizard eyed him suspiciously before deeming him skilled enough to attempt an Apparation to Missus Figg’s house, a block over. Harry popped over, waved at the batty old woman holding one of her many cats, and then popped back to the Dursleys’ yard. 

“Hmmm, something tells me you have done this more than just once before.”

Harry had the grace to look sheepish, and muttered, “Well, umm…”

The conversation was interrupted as the two heard quiet flapping; they turned to watch Hedwig sail back into the yard, landing on Harry’s shoulder.

Untying the two scrolls, Harry handed over the larger one addressed to Severus, before scanning the few lines he’d received.

> _Harry,_
> 
> _Thank you for your timely report, as I received an owl from Mundungus Fletcher immediately after yours, offering to join your summer guard. Please follow Professor Snape’s instructions, Harry, as I believe we have come up with a solution to the problem. I believe it will keep you both safe, and allow you to enjoy you summer as well. Make sure to tell him that you can Apparate, and that you get to the Ministry for your license on the thirty-first._
> 
> _Stay safe, my boy._
> 
> _Albus Dumbledore_

Severus scowled as he read his message.

> _Severus,_
> 
> _It was with great anguish that I read your note about Harry’s suffering, and I am saddened by the pain he has endured at the hands of those who should treasure him most. I would like to hear a full report from you before determining a just punishment for his relatives. Harry trusts you more than anyone, including myself._
> 
> _I will set to work immediately on the cottage, as I share your theory concerning the Dursleys. I would like you to take Harry to the muggle eye doctor in the shopping area you have been going to, and have him fitted for contact lenses. Miss Granger has made an appointment for him at three o’clock this afternoon. Have Harry wear a hat that covers his scar._
> 
> _I will let you know as soon as arrangements are formalized; in the meantime, take whatever action is necessary to keep safe._
> 
> _Albus_

Severus sighed, thankful that his mentor had agreed with his plans: it was one less obstacle to overccome. He was determined to keep the young wizard safe for the summer, but was also intent on exploring the growing feelings between them. Taking the chair, he waved Harry over and began to tell him of their afternoon plans. As Severus spoke about the need to disguise themselves, he became aware that the younger wizard was avoiding his eyes. Reaching out, he laid a hand on the young man’s cheek and gently turned his head until the emerald eyes met his.

“What is it, Harry?”

Harry knew the moment had come to make a decision that could become one of the most pivotal in his life. Examining the onyx eyes that looked into his, and enjoying the tingles he felt from where the hand rested on his cheek, he leaned into the warm caress. Could he take the chance, and trust this man? 

“Professor Dumbledore says I should tell you that I already knew how to Apparate,” he said, letting his sentence trail off as a sneer appeared on the face opposite him, “I’m sorry.”

There was humor in the depths of the dark eyes, and Harry found his decision was not as difficult as he had thought. He took a deep breath.

“I am leaving here, Severus, at the stroke of midnight on my birthday. I will be of age, and I have no intention of staying in this house one second longer than is absolutely necessary!” His voice had turned harsh. “Besides, it is not like my loving relatives will miss me at all, other than depriving Dudley of his favorite punching bag.” 

A hard edge had appeared in the dark eyes, mirroring the feeling inside him, and Harry thought idly that he did not want the older wizard to look at him that way.

“I…would you like to come with me, Severus,” Harry dropped his eyes as the fear of rejection overcame his famed Gryffindor courage. Both of them were aware of what he was truly offering.

“Yes,” came the immediate reply. Harry’s eyes darted up in surprise, only to meet obsidian ones holding a decided smirk. “That way I will not have to kidnap you and haul you away from this abysmal place.”

“What…” Harry stammered.

The dark eyes bore intensely into his, reading every secret in his soul.

“I have a small cottage by the sea on an island in Ireland. I have asked the Headmaster to put the proper protections on it so that we might spend the rest of the holidays there.”

Severus paused as he stroked the warm cheek, standing on a precipice, and then leapt. “It is very isolated, Harry, and very small, and we would be sharing the single bed.”

The emerald eyes flared and the older wizard was astounded at the fire he saw in their depths. Unsure who moved first, Severus was aware only of the lean body pressed against his, soft lips, and the delicious, wet heat that his tongue was sliding into. One of them moaned, he couldn’t tell which, when his hand moved to cup a taut arse cheek, pressing hips and erections together. 

An unfamiliar noise from the direction of the street pulled them back to reality, and Severus wrapped his arms around the young man, struggling to get his body under control. He could hear the harsh breathing that mimicked his own, and loosened his tight grip, half expecting Harry to push away. Instead, the thin arms wrapped around his waist tightened, as if the boy was afraid he would escape.

“Sev’rus?” The word came out in a throaty whisper, and Severus pressed a kiss in to the wild, raven hair. 

“Discretion, Potter, it would not do to give your uncle a coronary,” he growled, before stepping away. “Come, we have much to do.”

The day was productive, as they took advantage of what was their last chance to roam free. With the knowledge that there could be a Death Eater around every corner, they displayed hyper-vigilance that would have made even Mad-Eye Moody proud. Severus was tired when he eased into bed that night, but comfortable with the progress they had made; necessary school items were packed away, and two satchels stood ready in the event they needed to leave in a hurry. Sliding his wand under his pillow, he closed his eyes with a sigh.

The mattress dipped and he felt another body slide under the light blanket and settle against him. Prying one eye open, he attempted to glare at the head that nestled on to his chest.

“What are you doing?”

He could feel the young wizard smile before replying, “I am getting used to sleeping in the same bed with you.”

The Potions master reached down and tilted his companion’s chin up until their eyes met, then addressed him in a soft voice.

“Nothing happens between us, Harry, until your birthday.” His tone would tolerate no argument. “My body may be seventeen, but my principles are still thirty-seven, and until you are of age, it goes no further.”

“Of course, Severus,” Harry replied amiably, before stretching up and placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night.”

With a sigh, Severus settled Harry comfortably against him, and fell asleep with an unusual feeling of contentment.

* * *


	9. Goodbye Dursleys

>>>>>

The next two weeks passed with agonizing slowness, as, in the interest of safety, the two teenagers stuck close to the house. Harry completed all his summer homework, plus a week’s tutoring in potions principles. It had actually been an enjoyable experience for Harry, without the sardonic and critical Potions Master sniping at every thing he did. The older wizard had finalized his lesson plans for the coming term, and sent a list of needed potion ingredients back with Hedwig for the Headmaster to procure. There had been reports of suspicious individuals in the area, and the police had been to the neighborhood three times in the past ten days, but the protective spells and charms around the house had held.

Watching the older wizard as he slept, Harry softly stroked the long, silken black hair. Over the past couple of weeks they had both become accustomed to the touch of the other, neither having enjoyed much human contact in their lives. As Harry had begun to relate some of the neglect and abuse he had suffered, he in turn learned about the Potions Master’s rough childhood, and the abusive father who had led him to grief on Voldemort’s alter the summer before his seventh year at Hogwarts. Harry had held the shaking wizard as he told about the pain of the initiation, which included being raped by the evil wizard after he was marked. Stopping him before he went into detail, the young wizard assured Severus that he had been an involuntary witness to several recent initiation ceremonies, which included several of his year mates: Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy to name a few.

Severus stirred as Harry continued to softly stroke his hair, smiling as he propped himself up on one elbow. The beds had been transfigured back into a single one a week ago, when Harry had refused to sleep alone anymore. There was something reassuring about the other man’s embrace, something that held the worst of his nightmares at bay. True to his word, Severus had kept the physical aspect of the budding relationship tightly leased. They had enjoyed many hours of cuddling, masturbating together, and enjoying slow, deep kisses, but the older wizard had been careful to keep the wandering hands under control. A smile curved Harry’s lips, today was the thirtieth of July, and he knew it was the last time he’d have to wake up in this room. 

Leaning down, Harry trailed kisses the length of the long neck, pushing the sheet aside to continue a wet trail across a warm shoulder and along a sharp collarbone. Severus had taught him how to stimulate those places on his body that were sensitive as they masturbated together, and he had taken the lessons to heart. He latched onto a dusky, flat nipple, suckling gently. Sliding a hand down across the flat belly, Harry ran his fingertips over a long, hard cock; his bedmate groaned and arched into the touch. Encouraged by the response, Harry bit gently on a pebbled nub, and closed his hand around the pulsing length. 

The next thing he knew, Harry was pinned under a warm Potions Master with his arms pinned over his head, and his mouth was being ravaged. The feeling of the man cradled against his raging hard-on made the young wizard moan, and he bucked his hips. Gasping at the delicious friction, Harry whimpered as their cocks rubbed against each other, magic producing tingles wherever they touched, and it only took a few thrusts before he climaxed, drawing Severus over the edge as he felt the hot semen flood between them. 

“Insolent brat,” the older man panted, planting kisses into the wild raven hair.

“Good morning, Severus,” Harry said, trying to use his most innocent voice, which came out in a husky whisper. 

Snorting, Severus rolled away for him, as Harry sat up and wiped them clean with the sheet. With a grin, he scrambled up, pulled on his shorts, and made his way to the bathroom. As had become their habit, they were up early; with the Dursleys still sleeping there was no competition for the bath. Harry showered before clearing the small room of any possessions, and tiptoed back to the bedroom. 

Severus scowled, watching the young Gryffindor come back into the room and gather his clothing for the day. Not at all deterred, the brat grinned broadly, and he finally surrendered to the smile that tugged at his mouth. It was hard to do anything but share the joy he could feel radiating off the young man, the Potions Master thought as he went to take his own shower. As he rinsed the shampoo from his shoulder-length hair, using as much hot water as he could, he reflected on how pleasant the last two weeks had been. When first given this task by the Headmaster, he was sure that he would end up losing his admittedly short temper with the young Gryffindor and hexing him into oblivion; instead he’d found an intelligent young man whom he could respect and love. 

Coming back into the bedroom, Severus found Harry had everything ready. All of the items that they did not need immediately were going to be transported to Hogwarts by Dobby in Harry’s trunk; the rest packed in 2 black travel bags that they could easily carry. Summoning the manic little elf, he waited impatiently for the creature to get done fawning all over his Harry; Dobby promised to return for their bicycles, which were stored in the shed, before disappearing with the trunk and Hedwig’s cage. Taking his potions pouch out of the travel bag he carried, Severus followed Harry downstairs to the kitchen. Harry had insisted that he fix breakfast for the Dursleys one last time before they left, which played right into the Potions Master’s plans.

Humming to himself, Harry went about cooking all the family’s favorite foods. Severus busied himself helping where he could, making a point to pour everyone’s juice and Vernon’s coffee, surreptitiously pouring a different vial of potion in each one. He watched as the family entered the kitchen cautiously, the whale of a boy curiously backing his way into his chair. Vernon Dursley eyed them both with suspicion before sitting down to the perfectly cooked breakfast, while Petunia looked down her nose and drank her juice. Severus smiled wickedly as he watched.

“I’m leaving today,” Harry told them, attempting to be gracious, “and I wanted to tell you that I appreciate the fact that you gave me a roof over my head for the past sixteen years.”

“You ungrateful little freak!” Vernon’s face went from red to purple in a flash. “If you think you are going to leave here before we get more money, you are sadly mistaken!” 

Harry took an involuntary step back as his uncle came up out of his seat, but Severus already had his wand in his hand. 

“You will plant your fat arse back in that chair, Dursley. Immediately!” the Potions Master said between clenched teeth, his voice deadly cold. 

There was fear in the piggy little eyes as they watched the wand in the teen’s hand. Petunia sniffed, looking down her long nose at him, and Dudley trembled, but continued to stuff his face, gulping his orange juice.

“We are leaving here, and none of you will ever have to see either of us again. Harry may not want to say anything, however,” he sneered maliciously, “I do.”

“I don’t have to listen to you, freak…”

“ _Silencio_.” Severus muttered, with a flick of his wrist. Vernon’s mouth kept moving, but no words came out. 

Turning his head, he speared Petunia with a look filled with hatred. “Fifteen and a half years ago, an innocent baby was left on your doorstep, the last living blood relative of your sister. He was not guilty of a crime, he never asked to be put at your mercy, but you spent the past fifteen years making him pay for being orphaned. You neglected to provide him with even the most basic of human needs, starved him of food and affection, and physically and emotionally abused him. The true irony of this pathetic plot of yours to try and squash the magic out of him is that Harry is probably the most powerful wizard of this age, and you did nothing but force him to raise himself as best he could.”

Petunia flushed and looked down in shame, and even Vernon looked away. Severus pulled Harry from where he stood just behind him, and wrapped his left arm around the trembling teen’s waist.

“The fact that Harry has grown into a fine, caring, and ethical young man has nothing to do with you filthy lot, and everything to do with his own personality and the memory of the parents who died protecting him.

“You are a bloody bastard, Dursley, and as a reward for your years of abuse, for striking and humiliating the boy for doing the same thing every normal teenager has ever done, you will never again be able to attain an erection.”

He turned to Petunia, “And you, for your failure to meet the simple needs of a helpless child, you have ingested a nymphomania potion, that will drive you to constantly desire sexual relations. Perhaps you will know what it feels like to have your needs unfulfilled.”

Spinning towards Dudley, Severus waved his wand at the porky teen, who promptly wet himself in terror. Harry snickered. “You, disgusting boy, have received a bit of your father’s potion, a bit of your mother’s potion, and another one that releases your own magical abilities.” He grinned evilly at the look of terror on all three faces. “What, didn’t they tell you that you were a wizard, Dudley?”

With that, Severus decided it was time for the coup de grace, and turned to wrap his arms around Harry. “And you never told them that your father was filthy rich and left you more money than you can ever spend, did you, love?” And proceeded to kiss him senseless.

Finally parting, the two wizards grabbed their bags, and slipped out the back door. They left without a backward glance, walking through yards to get to Arabella Figg’s house, and knocked on her back door. Once both were able to stop laughing and speak calmly, they told Arabella what had happened, leaving her rolling on the floor in hysterical laughter. The Potions Master had Harry sit on a chair while he covered his scar with muggle cosmetics that he borrowed from the squib. After drinking a hair-lengthening potion, Harry drank another draught that turned his hair a dark auburn color. Putting in his contacts, he waited until Severus approved his disguise; with a quick ‘thanks’ to Missus Figg, they flooed to the Leaky Cauldron. 

Bypassing the bar area, Harry followed the older wizard up the stairs to room number eleven, where Severus produced the key from his bag. Following him inside, the young Gryffindor wasn’t surprised to see his companion cast locking and silencing spells around the door. He had just set his bag on the table when he was scooped up and tossed on the bed, the warm length of the Potions Master pressing against him. Harry was slowly and thoroughly kissed, and found that his breathing was harsh when they came up for air. Slender fingers reached up to stroke his hair in a comforting gesture.

“Are you alright, Harry?” Severus asked him softly. “You’re not upset about the Dursleys, are you?”

“Oh, no,” the boy answered, grinning, “you were bloody brilliant, Sev!”

“Good. Now, come on, we have shopping to do.” 

They spent the rest of the morning in Diagon Alley, getting Harry’s schoolbooks, and buying supplies for Severus’ cottage. Dobby would retrieve the school supplies for them, and they would take the other items with them when they left. Lunch was taken in a small back room at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry carefully avoiding the makeup-melting steam from the bowl of soup Tom had brought with his sandwich. With his disguise, no one seemed to recognize him, which was strangely liberating for the young wizard, and he grinned happily at his companion. Severus told him that they would go to the Ministry of Magic at eight in the morning for his Apparation test, and then they would be going to the cottage. A thrill of anticipation shot through him at the heated look in the other man’s eyes.  
After lingering over lunch, Harry followed Severus back into Diagon Alley. Light summer robes purchased just that morning covered their shorts and tee shirts. Walking closely together at a leisurely pace, Harry was surprised when the Potions Master turned into the door of Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes, where Harry could see one of the twins, he wasn’t sure which, behind the counter. Severus did not stop there, but continued through a door set behind the counter. The solidly built redhead behind the counter grinned and nodded before turning back to the pair of young boys at the counter, making a purchase of Canary Creams. Taking this as permission, Harry trailed behind the taller teen into the back storeroom.

The back room was dark, and Harry walked into the Slytherin’s back when he stopped short just beyond the threshold. The hair stood up on the back of his neck and Harry had his wand in his hand even as the lights flared.

“Surprise!”

Blinking to clear the blind spots from his eyes, Harry was caught off guard by several bodies thrown against his, and he staggered under the onslaught. Bushy brown hair blocked his view, and he could hear both Ron and Hermione talking at once. Another set of arms slid around him from behind and, for an instant, he panicked.

“If I were Mister Potter, I would hex all of you. Please unhand him so that he may breathe properly.”

The silky, sneering drawl assured Harry that everything was all right, and he was able to return the hug before he was set free. Looking around, he found Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Remus Lupin, Professor Dumbledore, and the other Weasley twin all grinning at him. A table stood in the center of the large storeroom, with a small pile of presents and a cake upon it. Everyone was talking to him at once, and Harry could only smile dazedly, his eyes meeting obsidian ones set above a smirking smile. Severus knew he’d never had a birthday party before.

Moving to stand between the werewolf and the Headmaster, Severus watched in amusement and satisfaction as the group of Gryffindors hugged each other and babbled insanely. With a new spy in their midst, he knew that Grimmauld Place was unacceptable as a place to hold the small celebration, and the Headmaster had agreed that this group would die before giving up his or Harry’s whereabouts. Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes had been the perfect compromise for a relatively safe location for Harry’s birthday party. While Severus was musing on this thought, the second Weasley twin arrived from the front, having closed the shop for the duration of their little gathering.

“I trust the Dursleys are still alive and relatively undamaged, Severus?” The infernal blue eyes twinkled merrily.

“Yes, Albus, they are still very much alive, much to my regret, although perhaps not as comfortable in their meager existence as they might have been.”

“Well done, my boy. I will be paying them a visit tomorrow to ask them a few questions as well. Remus has graciously agreed to accompany me.”

A feral light glowed in the amber eyes of the man who had served as Harry’s guardian for the past two years. “Thank you for taking care of him for me, Severus. Harry looks better than he has in a long time.”

Severus narrowed his eyes at the sandy-haired man, wondering if Lupin was somehow aware of what was happening between them. He knew that the man’s sense of smell was far more sensitive than a normal human’s, a side affect of his condition, and felt certain that the man could smell Harry’s scent all over him. The perceptive amber eyes returned his scrutiny; there was no condemnation in them, and Severus allowed himself a small smile and nodded.

Harry was delighted with the party and the opportunity to see his friends, which was a rarity in the summertime. Eventually, the excitement died down, and the teenagers moved to the table, where he sat down on a small stool to open presents: sweets and chocolate from the twins and Ron, a book on wandless magic from Hermione, a book of Quidditch strategy from Ginny, and a wizarding knife from Remus, so like the one Sirius had given him years ago, that Harry had to swallow a sudden lump in his throat. Ginny and Hermione cut the cake, and Harry ate his piece happily, chatting about everyone else’s summer plans and watching Severus out of the corner of his eye. Curiously, no one asked him about his disguise, or the currently teenaged Potions Master; Harry was sure that it was the doing of the Headmaster. Looking up, his gaze caught the bright blue eyes, twinkling madly over half-moon spectacles, as the elderly wizard watched him with a smile. Harry returned the smile and turned his attention back to Ron as his best friend made the assertion that they were a shoo-in for the Quidditch Cup this coming school year. 

An hour later everyone said their goodbyes, and Harry hugged the girls and Remus. It had been decided that it was better for everyone that Harry not ride the Hogwarts Express back to school, and he told his friends that he would see them at the welcoming feast. 

Professor Dumbledore was waiting for Harry and Severus when the two teens returned to their room in the Leaky Cauldron. Harry set down his packages as the elderly wizard waved him into the chair opposite him.

“I must apologize, Harry, for what you have suffered at the hands of your relatives. I knew it would not be easy for you there, but I never imagined that their behavior would be so abusive. My primary concern was for the protection that Petunia could provide you after the death of your parents.” 

Dumbledore seemed to look every one of his one-hundred-and-fifty-odd years, Harry thought, recognizing the profound sadness in the blue eyes. Not quite knowing how to respond, Harry nodded to acknowledge the apology, wondering idly whether the Headmaster had noticed there was only one bed in the room. Feeling his face heat, he looked up at the silent Potions Master, catching the knowing smirk on his face.

“I do have some bad news for you both, though,” as the Headmaster spoke, the twinkle returned to his eyes, “The wards around the cottage are not ready, as they need to have some of Harry’s blood to afford the proper level of protection. So, the first week of your vacation will be spent in a cottage I own; I am afraid it is even more isolated than yours, Severus, so you will be totally alone.”

Harry could have sworn the Headmaster threw him a wink, and he smiled broadly back. Going on to explain that a portkey would take them to the cottage after Harry’s appointment at the Ministry the next morning, he cautioned them not to leave the room that evening; he would have Dobby bring them everything they needed for the journey in the morning. As he said goodbye to both of them, Albus Dumbledore put a hand on Harry’s shoulder and squeezed gently, wishing him a good birthday.

The evening sped past, although they stayed in the room as Dumbledore had asked. They occupied their time by playing wizard’s chess. Harry quickly found that Severus was every bit as good as Ron and lost spectacularly to the older wizard every game. Eventually, the mismatch was such that Harry sacrificed men indiscriminately, simply to see how Severus’ pieces would dispatch them; he was not disappointed. Dobby brought them dinner and took the items with him that would be needed at Hogwarts. Harry became more and more nervous as midnight drew near, having told Severus of his one birthday tradition. Although he knew there would be no owls bearing gifts tonight, he was hoping to have a certain Slytherin give him a gift.

Sending the young man to the bathroom to prepare for bed, Severus waved out all the candles out except the two nearest the bed. He had already bathed, and removing his pants, slid in between the rough sheets. Shortly before midnight Harry rejoined him. Severus pulled him close, and rolled on top of the lean form, taking his soft lips in a ravaging kiss. He could feel Harry’s hands come around him and begin to stroke down his back, exploring the muscled plane.

Concentrating on the pleasure points he had previously discovered, Severus began to explore the lightly muscled body with his hands and lips. Nipping at an earlobe drew a moan, and suckling strongly on a sensitive nipple earned a whimper. Lingering over Harry’s belly button, he speared his tongue into it, mimicking a more intimate action, as his hand slid down over Harry’s twitching cock. Settling down between his lover’s thighs, Severus gently took the heavy sack in one hand, softly kneading the testicles as he swept his tongue over the weeping tip. A guttural cry ripped out of the boy and his head thrashed on the pillow when Severus engulfed his throbbing length in the wet heat of his mouth. Severus felt the balls in his hand tighten, and with two strokes of his lips, Harry exploded into his mouth. Severus swallowed every drop before crawling back up the limp body.

“Happy birthday, Harry,” he said as he kissed him.

Harry felt like a limp rag; his climax seemed to have drained his body of all its energy. He roused when Severus was kissed him, the taste of his own seed warm on his tongue. It was sweet and bitter at the same time, not a bad taste at all, and suddenly, he knew he wanted to taste it himself. Shifting the older wizard onto his back, Harry moved down, pausing to suck on the nipples he had learned were an erogenous zone, enjoying the sounds coming from above. With more enthusiasm than finesse, Harry slid the burgeoning tip between his lips, his fingers stroking the velvety skin, and he greedily tasted the slickness. Sliding the hard length out, he mapped the surface with his lips, tasting the purpling head, tracing the vein on the underside, and nuzzling the nest of curls at the base. 

Tentatively, he licked the heavy sack underneath, and gently sucked one of the balls into his mouth. The growl from above had him rock hard again as he added the second ball to his mouth and laved them with his tongue. Less than gentle fingers weaved into his temporarily long hair, tugging him upward, but he resisted. Sliding back up the shaft, Harry carefully sucked it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip and tracing the slit. The fingers tightened and he was glad he’d braced a hand on the slender hips as they bucked forcefully. With a shout from his lover, Harry’s mouth was flooded with hot semen, and he swallowed as fast as he could even as a second climax slammed into him.

Stirring only enough to gather the young man tightly to his chest, Severus attempted to catch his breath. He’d never in his life had a partner attend to his needs so sweetly, so willingly; he felt cherished. He buried his nose in the soft, fragrant hair and they both slid into sleep.


	10. Harry's Birthday

* * *

Dobby woke them early the next morning, babbling birthday greetings to Harry before his eyes were even open. Both wizards groaned in dismay, but knew they had to get up and prepare for their busy day. Harry allowed the diminutive elf to hug him, and opened the gaily-wrapped package that Dobby handed him. It contained a mismatched pair of socks, one red with gold griffins and one green with silver serpents; Severus snorted with laughter when he saw them. Dobby handed Harry another small parcel, telling him that the Headmaster had said it was to be opened when they reached the cottage; he also informed them that the package was their portkey, activated by saying ‘ready’. He delivered a special breakfast for Harry’s birthday before finally disappearing with a pop.

The pair Flooed from the Leaky Cauldron directly into the atrium at the Ministry of Magic, which at seven thirty already bustled with harried witches and wizards eager to get on with their business. Harry was a little reluctant to have his wand checked by Eric at the security gate, but remembered that the guard only analyzed the wand, not the person. Passing through quickly, they moved to the lift, standing close together in the rear as people packed into it, and little flocks of memos hovered over their heads. Severus continued to look around the area, covertly keeping an eye on their surroundings, until they finally got off the lift to join the line at the Apparation Licensing Bureau. It took almost an hour of standing in line before Harry was able to fill out the paperwork, and another half hour until a feeble-looking elderly wizard told him it was his turn.

Although he was afraid the hunch-backed little man might fall asleep while he Apparated to heaven only knows where, Harry followed the man’s instructions to the letter. He was delighted when he passed with distinction, like the Weasley twins had, but grumbled darkly when the man insisted on an autograph before he handed him his new Apparation license. Severus snorted at the younger man’s discomfort and took his arm to steer him back towards the lifts. Both knew if word got back to Cornelius Fudge that Harry was in the building, he would attempt to hold him there. 

The two flooed back to the Leaky Cauldron to pick up their bags, then they slipped out the back door to the deserted alley. After checking carefully for stray Muggles, Harry dug the parcel out of his bag, and they held it between them, whispering the activation word. As the hook tugged at his navel and the world spun around him, Harry remembered why he hated traveling by portkey. The disorienting feeling lasted longer than he remembered; this journey seemed to take a long time.

Harry landed with a a thump on a warm expanse of sandy beach. He laid sprawled on the sand for a moment, enjoying the press of warm, heavy, moisture-laden air against his skin. The ocean frothed and rolled, wetting his feet as he scrambled up, seeing Severus smirk down at him from where he landed, standing, of course. The azure blue of the deep ocean gave way to turquoise, followed by foaming sea green where the waves battered the edges of the sand and rocks. Pivoting, Harry could see a small beach, about ten meters long, surrounded by weathered red-brown lava rock on each side. Tall coconut trees grew along the edges of the sand, and he could see behind the high water mark what looked like a thatched hut standing on stilts half a meter high. More than anything else, it was the sheer amount and color variations of green that astounded him. The foliage was lush and deep, and the perfume of tropical flowers and sea breeze prickled his nose.

He walked towards Severus, who looked around in awe before taking the younger man’s hand and leading the way up towards the hut. As they stepped from the beach onto a crushed coral pathway, Harry picked out the vibrant colors of the tropical flowers: the red, white, and yellow hibiscus, the bright white petals of the plumeria, and purple orchids growing wild in the area around the cottage. There was a large, leafy tree with dark bark and large green fruit hanging heavily from the branches, which Severus identified as a mango tree. Pineapple plants lined the south side of the hut, and there was a stand of banana trees just steps from the door. Two papaya trees on one side delighted Severus when he saw them; he excitedly told Harry about the healing properties of the tree and the fruit, making Harry smile. He might take the Potions master out of the laboratory, but his interest and obsession never changed.

Entering the hut, they could see that it was much larger than it had appeared from the outside. It was constructed of native woods and palm fronds woven tightly together for the roof. Inside, the hardwood floors gleamed immaculately. The large living room was furnished with white wicker chairs and sofa, the brightly colored cushions reflecting the colors of the flowers outside; white-washed half walls were topped with fine mesh screens, letting in the fragrant trade winds. A small, round dining table occupied the far left side of the great room, with a large kitchen adjoining it. On the right side was a hallway that led down to a master bedroom suite furnished with a large white wicker bed, with attached small bathroom. Further down the hall were a smaller guest bedroom and an additional bath.

After a quick inspection, the two returned to the dining area, where Harry opened the parcel from Headmaster Dumbledore. The paper fell away to reveal two pieces of cotton material, one deep green with white hibiscus flowers and one bright red with hibiscus flowers. Picking up the green cloth, Harry found it was a rectangular piece of fabric a meter wide and about a meter and a half long. A piece of parchment fell out when he shook out the cloth and he handed it to Severus to read out loud:

> _My boys – Talofa lava,_
> 
> _You are standing on the leeward side of a small island adjacent to the island of Manu’a in the Samoan Archipelago, just east of the main island of Tutuila, south of the equator in the middle of the South Pacific. There is a twelve-hour time difference between your location and Diagon Alley, but I have spelled the port key to make your arrival the same time and day as you left London, and likewise, when you return it will be the same time and day. There is a family group that lives on the opposite side of the island, but otherwise you are alone. The protective spells and charms on the cottage shield it and the private beach from prying eyes, but they do not extend to the ocean. The pieces of cloth are called lava-lavas, and they are what the male islanders wear, wrapped and knotted around their waists. Yes, Severus, that is all they wear, it is the Samoan way, or Fa’a Samoa. There is an abundant amount of fruit around the cottage and the kitchen has been stocked for your stay. In the event of an emergency, there is an outside fire pit in the backyard that is directly connected to the fireplace in my office. I hope you like my little hut; please use it as if it were your own, as is the custom of the Samoan people. Enjoy your birthday, Harry._
> 
> _Tofa, Albus_

Harry held up the length of cloth, wrapped it around his waist, and knotted the ends to one side. The cloth fell to his knees. He looked up at the Potions master, grinning devilishly as he stripped out of the shorts and t-shirt he had been wearing. He kicked off his shoes and scooped everything into a pile before standing back and looking expectantly at the older wizard.

Severus let his eyes roam over the tanned chest and firm abdomen as Harry toyed with the green fabric around his waist. Setting the note back on the table, Severus tugged his t-shirt over his head and toed off his shoes. Advancing on the younger man, he trailed a slender finger down the warm skin, tracing the edge of a pectoral muscle, and leaned in to take the soft lips in a gentle kiss. Heat and hunger exploded between them, and Severus cupped a hand behind Harry’s head, kissing him hungrily. Hands roamed and stroked as their tongues dueled for supremacy, and eventually the older wizard nudged them down the hall and into the bedroom. One pull on the knot dropped Harry’s lava-lava to the floor, leaving him gloriously naked, his erection jutting between them.

“Remind me to thank Albus for the native costume,” Severus muttered as he pushed the young man onto the soft mattress and removed his own trousers.

Naked, the Slytherin settled his length on top of Harry, magic sending tingles everywhere their skin touched. Trailing his lips down the arched throat, Severus nipped and licked his way to the pale pink nipples. He stopped and sucked one into his mouth, giving it a sharp nip before continuing his journey south. Fingertips teased along the cleft of Harry’s arse, and he used his tongue to circle the leaking tip of the twitching erection, sliding over the slit and down the length. Harry’s legs fell apart when Severus brought his hands around to stroke the young wizard’s inner thigh, making room for him to kiss his way down to the scrotum and gently suckle first one and then the other testicle. Harry’s moans and whimpers made his pulsating cock so hard it ached, and Severus brushed a fingertip over the puckered entrance. 

“Oh bloody hell!” Harry’s hips bucked and his fingers buried in the silken tresses. 

Severus smirked in satisfaction as he worked his way back up, and swallowed his lover’s length. Pulling up, he swirled his tongue around the tip, sucking hard. Harry babbled nonsense as his head thrashed on the pillow, and the older wizard grinned at him wickedly. Looking around, he spotted a small, blue bottle labeled coconut oil on the bedside table. Summoning the vial, he opened it and poured some of the fragrant oil into his hand. Still laving the hard cock slowly with his tongue, Severus gently breached the ring of muscle with an oiled finger, feeling his partner tense for a moment before relaxing. Working the finger in and out, he added a second, and brushed against the sensitive gland that sent an electric shock through Harry.

“Ahhhhh,” came the groan, “do that again!”

Severus happily obliged, sitting back on his heels as he added a third finger, thrusting and stretching. Severus gritted his teeth as Harry continued to moan and arch his hips to meet his hand. His own erection throbbed painfully, and he knew the end of his control was near; Severus removed his fingers in order to slick oil over his cock, eliciting a whimper of loss from his lover. He grabbed a pillow and lifted Harry’s hips, bringing his legs up and pressing them back to his chest, as he leaned forward. 

“Are you really sure you want me to do this, Harry?” The tip of his penis lodged against the tight ring.

Harry glared at him, biting his lip and panting with the effort of keeping himself from climaxing. He arched up, popping the cock head through the tight muscle. Severus gasped at the sensation, wrapping Harry’s legs around his waist as he leaned down to capture the young wizard’s lips. Devouring Harry’s mouth, he slowly eased in as Harry pushed up, pressing forward until he was completely sheathed in the velvety heat. Gasping at the intensity of the feeling and the prickling of their magic combining, Severus held himself still, mentally distracting himself with the list of ingredients for Wolfsbane to keep from coming. 

“Oh fuck, Sev,” the Gryffindor moaned, arching his hips frantically.

It was impossibly warm and tight, and Severus moved to set the rhythm, which grew faster and deeper until he felt Harry stiffen and howl. His hot semen spurted between them and his muscles clenched; with the additional stimulus, the older man was lost, bucking deep and climaxing with a guttural cry. He collapsed on top of his lover, his face buried in the side of Harry’s sweaty neck. As soon as he could breathe again, Severus rolled to his side and cast a cleaning spell. Then he gathered the young wizard to him and planted a kiss at his temple.

“I think I just died and went to heaven,” came Harry’s sleepy voice. “You are bloody brilliant, Severus Snape.”

Severus simply snorted as they both fell asleep.

* * *

Ominous rumbles from Harry’s stomach woke them both just after lunchtime. He found that he was held tightly from behind, nestled firmly against a lean torso. A soft, warm hand was rubbing slow circles across his abdomen, sending a tingling sensation through him. Moaning softly, he tried to arch into the hand as it dropped lower, but his stomach gave another loud gurgle, drawing a soft laugh from behind him.

“Come, birthday boy. Food first, extracurricular activities later,” the silky voice muttered as a kiss was pressed to his jaw. 

Harry scooted out of bed and padded to the bathroom. Coming back into the bright room, he watched as the Slytherin knotted his lava-lava securely around his waist.

“Hey, I liked the green one!” 

An elegant eyebrow arched, “Surely you don’t expect me to wear Gryffindor colors, Potter.”

Harry snorted and walked naked out into the living room, feeling the dark eyes follow his arse. Pulling the other lava-lava from the parcel, he wrapped it around his waist with a flourish. He turned to speak, only to be hauled up against a warm chest and kissed hard. Glittering dark eyes peered into his, seeming to read what was hidden in his soul, and Harry smiled tenderly.

“Won’t work, Sev, I was trained by the best,” he said as he took the taller teen by the hand. “Let’s go look in the kitchen.”

Going through the pantry and cupboards, the two men found a great variety of food, all charmed to stay cool and fresh. There were some foods that they recognized and many that they did not. Severus located a local cookbook on a bookshelf in the living room, and Harry happily thumbed through it as they ate a stack of chicken sandwiches. The Potions master had also discovered a book on tropical plants, and was looking through it for potential food items and potion ingredients.

Dragging his companion outside after they cleaned up, Harry tugged at the knot on his lava-lava, dropping it and the towel he had grabbed onto the warm sand. Throwing Severus a grin, he ran down to the edge of the waves, and dove in. The warmth of the Pacific waters surprised him, and he paddled out a little way off the beach. He bobbed up and down in the gentle waves, turning in time to see Severus remove his wrap and carefully fold it before walking into the water. Harry swam closer to shore, watching the brightly colored fish dart around his feet in the crystal clear water.

“We will have to use a Bubblehead Charm and swim down along the reef. The fish are amazing!”

Harry felt the older wizard press against his back. An arm slid around his waist, and long legs slowly churned in the water below him. Smiling, he turned, and slid his arms around the elegant neck, their legs entwining as Severus leaned in and kissed him. They slowly sank under the surface, only to bob back up, gasping for breath and laughing. Walking out of the water hand in hand, they dried off in the sun, retied their lava-lavas, and went to explore the area around the cottage.

The lush area adjacent to the building was a veritable smorgasbord of edible tropical plants. Ugly green balls the size of bludgers turned out to be breadfruit, and the plant with the large green elephant-ear-shaped leaves sat atop a starchy root that the islanders called taro, which the cookbook called the ‘potato of the South Pacific’. Toward the back of the lush, green area, set against the base of the lava cliff, was a small but spectacular waterfall that fell into a small pool lined with black rock.

Deliciously warm, the sweet, fresh water was constantly replenished at one end by the waterfall, and then cascaded down a second, smaller fall. A small stream led from there out to the sea. Harry marveled at the complexity and design of nature as he untied his cloth and slipped into the surprisingly deep pool. Orchids of almost every color graced the rim of the pool, and large, feathery ferns grew tall around the edge of the lava rock. Harry had to smile as he watched Severus’ eyes light with discovery; he knew the greasy git of a Potion master was showing through, cataloguing the plants according to their utility as potion ingredients. 

“It’s beautiful here, isn’t it, Severus?”

“Gorgeous,” the older wizard said, his eyes trained on Harry. He unknotted the bright fabric at his waist and joined him in the pool.

Harry smiled as Severus moved to press their bodies together, and took his lips in a slow, sweet kiss. Unhurriedly, their hands and fingers stroked each other; Harry felt as if his skin was on fire, as every caress made his skin tingle. Harry was buried in an avalanche of sensation. Strong, slender fingers cupped his arse and pulled him flush against a hard, throbbing erection, sending sparks of electricity shooting through his own cock. His mouth was devoured, and when a fingertip stroked across his entrance, Harry exploded under the onslaught. He was only vaguely aware that Severus had stiffened and come with a shout. They both sagged bonelessly into the water, holding each other tightly.

* * *


	11. Island Life

* * *

Harry watched carefully as the fresh mahi-mahi they had caught that afternoon off the reef seared in the pan on the magical stove, checking periodically on the thick-sliced taro root roasting golden brown in the oven. Severus stood beside him, peeling and dicing a rainbow of fresh fruit into delicious mix of flavors. As he carefully turned the fish over, a glint of reflected light drew his attention. The gold and silver bracelet around his right wrist caught the sunlight that flooded through the open screens of the cottage. An emerald-eyed silver snake twined with a ruby-eyed golden snake, charmed to stay in place, winked up at him. Harry wasn’t quite sure if they were real or just charmed to feel real, but it was a slight, reassuring weight on his wand arm.

It had been a complete surprise when the older wizard had shyly handed the present to Harry the previous night, as they had sat on the beach watching the sun slide slowly into the water at the horizon in a glorious sunset. In their short time together, they had not spoken of their developing physical and emotional attachment. Harry wasn’t sure that he could identify love if he felt it, never having been loved before. He knew what he felt for Severus was similar to what he felt for Ron and Hermione, but more intense, and yet more tenuous. The thought of being subjected to the stern, cold façade that the Potions master wore when he taught terrified Harry, but he wasn’t sure how to address it with the warm, relaxed teenager beside him. Severus made him feel, in turn, scared, excited, desired, and anxious, but Harry could not say that it was love. 

“Harry, is something wrong?”

Startled green eyes met the intelligent onyx ones, and Harry felt a moment of panic before the older wizard gave him a crooked smile. 

“It’s a bit overwhelming at times, isn’t it?” he asked softly, laying the knife down and moving to slide his arms around the teenager’s waist from behind. “It has been a very long time since I felt this comfortable, this close to anyone, and it is a bit frightening.”

Harry blew out the breath he didn’t know he was holding and said, “Yeah, kind of scary.”

Severus reached around him and rescued the fish from the fire, sliding it to one side before turning his young companion and kissing him. Harry looped his arms around the taller man’s neck, fingers sliding into the silky tresses, and returned the kiss enthusiastically. He could feel a hand stroking his back in a comforting gesture, as Severus took control and gentled the kiss. Enjoying the soft caresses, Harry relaxed, letting some of his anxiety ease away. As the kiss ended, he buried his face in the warm neck.

“It will be all right, Harry, you’ll see. Let’s enjoy what we have now, and we won’t worry about the real world until we must.”

Nodding, Harry stood for a moment absorbing the comfort and warmth of Sev’s embrace before turning back to the preparations. They had dinner on the table in a few minutes, and ate in companionable silence, savoring the delicious, new flavors of the exotic foods. Setting the dishes in the sink, Severus flicked his wand and they started cleaning themselves. Harry straightened the rest of the living room, and they walked hand in hand out to watch the sun sink into the west.

The trade winds blew softly through the screens of the cottage, heavy with moisture off of the sea, and carrying a myriad of scents and smells. The soft light of dusk prompted them to guide their footsteps back to the door of the cottage, and Severus followed his young companion inside. The older wizard stripped off the cloth tied around his waist as they moved toward the bathroom, and reached to undo the knot at Harry’s waist. Ignoring the questioning look, he slid his hand under an elbow and guided the young man into the shower.

“Come, I have plans for this evening.”

Stepping under the tepid spray, Severus wet his hair and let the water slide down his chest and back. Emerald green eyes watched appreciatively, and Harry’s eager cock stirred in its nest of curls. After shampooing and rinsing his hair, the Potions master stepped out of the water, positioning Harry underneath the spray. Squirting a small amount of shampoo into his hand, he moved until he was chest to chest with his lover, and gently washed his hair. Letting the action of the water rinse the suds away, Severus then washed himself with the special sandalwood soap he had brought with them. Hungry eyes followed his every move, watching as his long, slender fingers stroked his own growing erection. 

Maneuvering so that Harry’s his shoulders leaned against the wall and the water was at his own back, the Potions master leaned in to capture Harry’s lips in a deep kiss. Trailing his lips down the slender neck and nipping at the juncture of a shoulder, eliciting moans from above, Severus worked soapy fingers over Harry’s shoulders and down the toned chest. He paid special attention to the sensitive nipples before soaping his way down the abdomen, bypassing the groin to wash first one leg and then the other. Ignoring the hard, twitching cock that begged for attention, Severus turn Harry toward the wall and washed his back with slow, sensual strokes before sliding the bar of soap down, separating the golden tanned cheeks and brushing a finger across the young wizard’s entrance. Harry bucked back with a groan, and Severus turned him around.

Spreading Harry’s legs in a wide stance, Severus kissed him hungrily as his soapy fingers stroked down the length of the impossibly hard erection, his own throbbing cock brushing it. Dropping to his knees, Severus took the leaking tip into his mouth, licking his way down the shaft as he sucked it into the wet heat. At the same time, his hands returned to Harry’s arse, brushing again against his entrance. Hands threaded through his long hair as the older wizard stroked the velvety skin with his lips, and Harry moaned when he slid a soapy finger inside. Moving in a synchronized rhythm, Severus slipped a second finger in, stroking in and out, his fingers brushing against the little nub of flesh, making Harry howl in pleasure. His fingers tightened almost painfully, and he bucked his hips and thrust deep as he came with a shout into Severus’ greedy mouth.

After rinsing the soap off, Severus summoned a towel and wiped them both dry, then wrapped an arm around the shoulders of the languid teen and steered him into the bedroom. He deposited Harry on the mattress, then turned to collect a few items from the dresser; he could feel curious emerald orbs following his every move, and smirked evilly before climbing into bed. A strong arm pulled him down for a sweet, sensual kiss; a hand reached down to cradle his erection, but the older wizard pushed the hand away and rolled onto his back.

“Severus?”

“I told you I had plans for this evening, Harry, and although my body is seventeen, the ‘me’ on the inside is still thirty-six; I want to last through this.”

Harry rolled onto his side and propped his head on a hand, studying the features that had become so familiar. He raised his hand to trail a finger over the prominent nose and across the soft, thin lips. Their time in the sun had given the normally sallow skin a golden glow, and Harry marveled at the difference. The obsidian eyes watched him in return; something Harry could not read simmered in their depths. His fingers traced the contours of the cheekbones gently before a hand came up to capture them

“I want you to make love to me, Harry.” 

The teenager gaped at Severus, nervousness and doubt welling in him. The thought excited him and scared him to death at the same time. He had never done anything like that himself, and they’d only done it the one time. A hand reached up to cup his cheek.

“It’s all right, I’ll help you learn, Harry. You will do fine.” 

Warm arms encircled him, and Harry allowed himself to be pulled down atop the warm length of Severus’ body. Tingles of magic flared between them, and he had to smile when he saw desire flame in the fathomless depths of the onyx eyes. Taking Sev’s soft lips in a deep kiss, Harry mapped the warm interior. Hands stroked his back lightly as he pulled back slightly, sucking gently on his lover’s lower lip before trailing over to nip at an earlobe. Repeating what he had learned from the older man, Harry licked and nipped his way down the long elegant neck and chest. He ran his fingers through the small patch of soft black hair in the center, then dragged a fingernail over a flat, pale pink nipple, making Severus moan. Taking the other nipple into his mouth, he suckled hard; he rolled the other nipple in his fingers, and felt the man under him arch upward with a gasp. 

Smiling, Harry continued his journey down the fragrant, sweat-sheened skin, rubbing his renewed erection on a hard thigh. Spearing his tongue into Severus’ belly button elicited another groan. His hand cupped the heavy sac, gently rolling the balls inside as he moved to kneel between Severus’ thighs. He was nibbling on the wet, purple-red tip of the other’s cock when his ministrations were halted by a firm tug on his hair. 

“Get on with it, Potter!” The older man’s voice was breathless. 

A blue vial of coconut oil was pressed into his hand by trembling fingers, and Harry had to grin at the flushed, passion-filled face that scowled at him. Carefully working the cork out of the bottle, he tilted it and coated his fingers with the contents. Recapping the vial, he set it aside and leaned down to kiss Severus before settling on his knees. Stroking an inner thigh with the tips of his clean fingers, Harry circled an oiled finger around the entrance before slowly sliding it in. Moving the finger in and out, he leaned down to draw his tongue over the leaking tip of Sev’s cock just as he slid in a second finger. Severus groaned, pushing up with his hips, and Harry took that as encouragement to move faster and deeper. 

Feeling the older man tremble, Harry decided it was time, and withdrew his fingers, earning a moan of protest. Grabbing the vial, he slicked more oil on his throbbing erection. Severus rolled over, coming up on his hands and knees, and Harry guided himself to his entrance. Taking a deep breath, he slowly eased past the ring of muscle, stopping immediately as he remembered Severus doing. With a growl, Severus pushed back, impaling himself. Harry clutched at his hips as the sensation of being sheathed in tight, hot velvet took his breath away. He pulled back a little, then slid in deeper, and the pleasure he felt threatened to overwhelm him.

“Harry, move!” Severus’ voice had a plaintive edge.

Harry rocked back and plunged forward, pulling back on the slender hips. His thrusts became faster and harder as Severus pushed back against him, matching him stroke for stroke, his breathing harsh. Neither lasted long; Harry’s belly tightened when he heard Severus give a shout, and the muscles clenching around him pushed him over the edge. Holding himself deep, he collapsed over Severus’ sweaty back, pressing kisses against the heated flesh, feeling the older wizard lower them both to the bed. 

It was several long minutes before they separated and Harry felt a cleansing charm brush over him. Severus wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, pressing a kiss into the wild raven hair. Just as he slid into sleep, he heard that voice of molten chocolate whisper:

“I do believe you have a natural talent for something besides Quidditch, Mister Potter.”

* * *

They spent the next morning swimming lazily along the reef that paralleled the beach. Using the Bubblehead Charm, they were able to swim in deeper water, watching the schools of impossibly bright-colored fish swim in and out of the coral. Tiny fluorescent blue fish hovered in the folds of live brownish coral whose sting could make a human sick, while large blue and yellow-striped sunfish flashed through the needle-like arms of bright red fire coral. The razor sharp ends of a clump of dead coral caught Harry on the calf as he swam by. He winced as he felt it break the skin, but his attention was diverted by Severus sliding a hand down his arm to grab his hand. Looking over, he followed his companion’s pointing finger to the see a huge, brownish-green snake-like creature with hooked jaw poking its head out of a crevice of the reef. 

“Moray eel,” Severus said, bringing his head close to Harry’s. “Nasty buggers, those, teeth hooked backwards so that what ever it bites does not get away.”

Giving the ugly creature a wide berth, they made their way past it, looking at the array of colorful sea urchins, bright golden starfish, and waving purple sea anemones. Severus scanned the surface of the seabed, searching for an elusive prey. Finally spying it, he tugged on the hand he still held to direct Harry’s attention to a patch of what looked like sand and broken coral, until it blinked. Knowing wands didn’t work nearly as well underwater, he attempted wandless magic.

“ _Stupefy!_ ” 

The stone fish shuddered and lay still, then the Potions master approached carefully, staying well away from the deadly quills on the top the fish. Scooping it out of the sand with a wave of his hand, the fish settled into a clear magical bag that allowed water to course through it. He added that to the bag floating behind him, already heavy with brightly colored sea urchins, sea cucumbers, and various other plants and creatures he had found. Many of these items were rare and expensive potion ingredients, and Severus was delighted to have found them. It had also given him a warm flush of pleasure when Harry had enthusiastically agreed to help him, because he knew that potion brewing was far from the teen’s favorite activity. Severus wasn’t sure that he wanted to examine the budding emotion he felt inside, although he knew they would have to discuss things before they returned to Hogwarts.

Dark, ominous clouds packed the horizon when the two surfaced, and visible rain squalls were heading towards the island from the east. Gathering their things, the two wizards made their way to the cottage. Harry showered while Severus took care of spelling his prizes with keep-fresh charms, and the Potions master cleaned up while Harry made lunch. Later that afternoon, they lay entwined on the wicker sofa, both their appetites sated, watching the next curtain of rain sweep in from the ocean. It was still as warm as they had come to expect on the tropical island, only wetter, the very air heavy with moisture.

Looking down at the young man sleeping with his head pillowed on his chest, Severus reached up and gently brushed the soft hair back from a sweaty forehead. The Potions master felt a jolt of pain in his chest as he looked at the long, dark eyelashes fanned out across delicate cheekbones, the relaxed face impossibly young in sleep. Would Harry still want to doze comfortably on his chest when Severus was once again his greasy git of a teacher? The thought of being pushed away when he returned to his true age caused the pain to expand, clutching at his heart. Trailing his eyes down the features that he now knew almost as well as his own, Severus Snape felt his heart stop and his breath freeze in his chest as he realized he had done the unthinkable: he’d fallen deeply in love with the one person he believed he could never have, Harry bloody Potter.

* * *


	12. Leaving Paradise

* * *

A nightmare hit Harry in the wee hours of the morning, a wretched dream that Severus turned from him when he returned to his adult body, tired of dallying with a mere boy. Pain ripped through him and he gasped for breath, trying to get away. Agony tore through his leg as he moved it. He was so cold his body trembled with chills, and his leg felt like it would burst. 

“Harry?”

Harry’s shivering woke Severus, and when he reached to comfort him, he could feel the heat radiating off his lover’s body. When Harry moaned, he rolled him onto his back. Severus pulled the sheet down to examine him, brushing against his leg. Harry convulsed, screaming in pain before going limp. With a wave of his hand, the lights came up and Severus pulled the sheet completely away from Harry. He gasped when he saw that the teen’s left leg was horribly swollen, with angry red lines streaking out from a series of ulcerated wounds on the side of his leg.

Swearing, Severus racked his brain to think what could have caused this type of wound, going back over their activities of the past few days even as he summoned his pouch of potions. Selecting a fever reducing potion and a painkiller, he propped Harry up and stroked his throat as he poured the potions into his mouth. Going into the bathroom, he came back with a wet flannel and softly wiped the sweaty forehead as he cradled Harry to him. Murmuring soft reassurances, Severus went over everything they had done over the past two days, his mind returning over and over to the time they spent swimming on the reef.

“ _Accio_ island book.” 

Severus muttered and the book flew from the bookshelf into his hand. It took only a matter of minutes to look up the damage coral could do and a few more to isolate the particular type of coral wound, as well as the prescribed treatment. He read through the pages again, stroking the soft hair off the sweat-dampened forehead. The poultice seemed simple enough, and there was a healing potion as well that would compliment it. Easing himself out of bed, he covered Harry with a light blanket and set about turning fashioning a makeshift potions lab. 

Collecting the ingredients took only a few minutes; most were just outside the door of the cottage, and the papayas that made up the bulk of both remedies were in large supply, given the three trees that grew around the small pond. Setting a conjured pewter cauldron over the free-standing outside fire pit, Severus stood in the soft warmth of the velvety night and brewed the poultice first, then the healing potion. He checked on Harry as often as the brewing allowed, in addition to spelling him with a monitoring charm that would alert him if the teenager woke. The first tendrils of dawn light snaked over the horizon as he completed his work.

Gathering the freshly prepared papaya leaves that he needed to wrap the poultice in, which themselves contained powerful healing properties, Severus carried the items into the bedroom. Harry seemed cooler to the touch, but his leg was still swollen and angry-looking, with red streaks running up his calf toward his thigh. Casting a warming charm on the sheet beneath him, Severus applied the poultice to Harry’s leg, wrapped the mixture carefully with the large green leaves, and slid into bed on the opposite side. He managed to get the young Gryffindor to swallow the papaya-based potion and another fever reducing potion. Cradling Harry to his chest, thankful that he felt cooler, Severus reset the monitoring charm and dosed off. 

The day wore on slowly, with Severus repeating the prescribed healing measure, but it was not until afternoon that the fever broke, just as a worried Severus was preparing to use the emergency Floo connection. He was immediately at the boy’s side, stroking a gentle hand through the soft hair. Harry blinked at up at him and smiled wearily.

“What happened?” he asked, after taking a sip of the water that Severus offered.

“It would appear that you brushed against a particularly noxious bit of coral when we were out on the reef yesterday, and reacted to it badly.” As he spoke, Severus cupped a hand around the swell of a cheek. “I believe that your fever has finally broken.” 

They spent the afternoon quietly, a soft trade wind whispering through the trees as they talked and swapped stories. Severus tended to the poultice, and was relieved to find that the swelling had gone down and the red streaks had retreated down Harry’s calf. He reapplied it after helping the younger wizard to shower, pleased that the native healing methods had worked so well. A light dinner and a tray of tea refreshed them both.

“So, tell me, my Gryffindor. If you did not steal the ingredients from my stores in your second year, who did?”

Harry glanced up at him through his fringe, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Promise you won’t use it against anyone?”

Severus laughed and replied, “Your Slytherin side is showing, Harry. All right, amnesty for the perpetrator.” 

“I should have never told you about the Hat. Hermione took it so that we could brew Polyjuice Potion.”

“Polyjuice! Why in the world did you need Polyjuice?” 

“We needed to get into the Slytherin common room so we could ask Malfoy if he was the Heir of Slytherin,” Harry explained, popping a piece of mango into his mouth. “We figured he might admit it to his friends in the privacy of their own common room. Essence of Goyle was terrible.” He pulled a face.

Severus, who was currently acting as a backrest for the teenager, frowned. 

“You are telling me that a trio of Gryffindor second years accurately brewed and consumed Polyjuice Potion?”

“Yes, although it was mainly Hermione who did the brewing. It wasn’t worth it in the long run, either, as Malfoy didn’t have a clue about who might be opening the Chamber of Secrets.”

“Should I even ask about the gillyweed that disappeared your fourth year?”

Harry turned around with a smile, holding a piece of pineapple to his companion’s lips. “Professor ‘Moody’ suggested in the staff room that I should use it for the second task, making sure that Dobby could overhear not only what it was, but where it was stored. Dobby stuffed it into my hand as I ran for the lake that morning.”

Warm lips took the proffered fruit and the fingers, sucking them into the wet depths. Harry groaned as sensation shot to his groin. A gleam of devilment lit the dark eyes and he released the fingers to lean forward. Harry slid down to the crook of his arm, happily submitting when Severus captured his lips and proceeded to punish his impertinence by kissing him senseless.

* * *

The next morning dawned clear and bright, and the two wizards decided to further explore the area surrounding the cottage. Harry’s leg was mostly healed, the skin around the wound sites still a little sore and tight, but not overly painful. Walking along the beach as it curved around to south of the cottage, they found that the sand merged into a lava field that cut a wide swatch through the dense rainforest. Thankful that they had chosen to wear their trainers, the two wizards explored the red-black lava under a canopy of mango and palm trees. Brightly colored birds twittered from the treetops, and the large population of insects buzzed around them when they moved further into the vegetation.

They found a stream cutting through the hardened rock and heading out to the sea; they followed it back to a pool of water the size of the bathtub in the prefects’ bathroom, and Severus wrinkled his nose at the sulfur smell. Waving his wand over the gently bubbling water, he frowned when he saw no change. Kicking off his trainers, he dipped a toe in to the pool.

“Geo-thermal heating, but I believe that it is safe enough.”

Harry looked at his companion, his forehead wrinkling, before he shrugged and stripped. Carefully, he slid into the surprisingly deep pool, sighing at the feel of the warm water, which soothed the ache in his sore calf. Severus rolled his eyes, tugged off his lava-lava, and folded it neatly to lie beside the small bag they carried and their wands, before joining his lover in the water. Harry sank into the pool until only his head was above the surface, luxuriating in the warm fragrant water. As he allowed his torso to slowly float up, he felt slender fingers glide over his shoulders and tug gently at him.

“There is an outcropping here to sit on.” The deep, silky voice purred in Harry’s ear, arousing him as much as the long, slender fingers that brushed over his heated skin.

Putting his trust in the sure hands that maneuvered him, Harry floated and closed his eyes, concentrating on the sensations swirling across his skin. His head nudged against Severus’ shoulder, warm lips captured his and those talented fingers trailed down his sensitized skin. Tongues tangled gently, slowly, as fingers plucked and twisted his nipples, jolts of electricity shooting to his groin. Callused fingertips lightly traced the lines of his ribs and abdomen, and Harry shivered in reaction, feeling the tip of his cock lift out of the water as it twitched. Lips left his and moved to nibble on his earlobe. A long arm reached around him, those fingertips brushing over the curve of his arse, and down the length of his cleft. Fingers reached beyond his entrance to stroke his scrotum, a fine-boned wrist rubbing across the puckered ring.

“Does that feel good, love? What would you like me to do now?” Harry moaned at the deep timbre of the sexy voice that whispered in his ear. “Tell me what feels good.” 

Harry moaned as the tip of a finger rubbed lightly over the head of his cock, and then another finger joined it to trace the outline of the straining tip. The other hand moved back until a finger brushed back and forth across the ring of sensitive flesh. 

“Do you want me to take you, Harry, to fill you and stretch you, moving in and out slowly until you scream my name?” 

The voice purred in his ear as Severus nipped at the earlobe he had been sucking, his fingers pinched the leaking head, and he slid a finger deep into Harry. The overwhelming combination of sensations pushed the teen over the edge, and he came hard, stabilized by the arms that anchored him. Severus pulled him down across his lap, holding Harry against him as he rode out the waves of his climax. Stroking a hand along that beloved face, Severus kissed him softly.

As the kiss heated, Harry turned so that he straddled the older wizard, rubbing his groin against the erect length of his lover. He threaded a hand through the long hair as Severus’ hands splayed across his hips. The heated water and the natural minerals helped, and Harry twitched his hips, slowly impaling himself on the stiff cock. Groaning into his mouth, Severus gripped the lean hips and bucked up, his control evaporating as he arched up and emptied himself, triggering Harry’s second climax. For long moments afterward, both men lay slumped limply in the pool, recovering.

When they finally climbed out of the hot spring, they wandered through the foliage at the edge of the lava field, astounded at the amount of plant life that had managed to push up through cracks in the lava. Wild orchids in deep purple and yellow mingled with all colors of hibiscus and feathery green ferns. Severus collected samples of exotic plants that he thought he might be able to use in various types of potions, adding plumeria flowers from the trees. Snacking on finger bananas and fresh coconut milk, they made their way back to the cottage, tired but pleased with themselves. 

Severus cooked a simple dinner of pasta in herb sauce, and Harry threw together a pudding with a mixture of native fruits. They talked quietly as they ate, about the state of the House Quidditch teams and coming school year. Skirting any difficult topics by unspoken agreement, they chatted amicably about some of Harry’s past adventures. After showering together, they fell into bed, bodies entwined comfortably in sleep, a gentle rain refreshing the air.

* * *

The next day passed pleasantly, spent swimming and walking along the beach in the opposite direct of the previous day. Marveling at the beauty of the island, they had spent the afternoon collecting sea urchin spines and starfish. Just as they returned to the cottage, Harry fell to his knees in the sand, a vision ripping through his mind. Lost in a world of pain, he never felt Severus lift him and carry him into the bedroom. Feeling helpless, the older wizard could only cradle the teen to his chest and rock him back and forth, not letting go until the torture stopped and Harry went limp. Severus summoned his potion pouch and pulled out a vial of pain reducing potion, which he helped Harry tip into his mouth.

“Someone betrayed us, Sev’rus…” Harry tried to clear the lump out of his throat. “I watched as they killed Missus Figg and attacked the Dursleys.”

Knowing that there was no other way, Severus went out to the fire pit and activated the emergency Floo connection. It was three in the morning in Scotland, so he had to wait a few moments before a sleepy Albus Dumbledore responded to his summons. Harry emerged from the cottage just as Severus finished explaining the situation. Slipping an arm around the still shaky teen, the Potions master waited patiently as the elderly wizard debated the next move. 

“I hate to cut your trip short, but until we can establish whether you are still safe, I want you back at Hogwarts. Use the emergency portkey, Severus; it will take you directly to your chambers. It does not have the time-turner effect, so it will be the middle of the night here when you arrive. Please try and get some rest when you get here. I will let you know about your relatives, Harry, as soon as I have any information.”

It took them little more than an hour to pack their belongings, clean the cottage, and change into jeans and t-shirts. Strapping the magically enlarged bags over their shoulders, Severus took Harry into his arms before activating the portkey. The journey was shorter going back than it had been arriving, but they had traveled through a twelve hour time difference the first time.

The fire burned brightly in the hearth as they landed on the soft, plush carpet of Severus’ private dungeon chambers. A tray of tea and sandwiches stood on a small table placed between a cream-colored sofa and two deep green leather armchairs. Harry followed the Potions master through a doorway and into his private lab, where they settled the potions ingredients they had collected it a special cabinet charmed to keep them fresh. Severus led the way back through the sitting room with Harry numbly following. Making him lie on the sofa, Severus summoned a soft blanket to cover him; he settled Harry’s head in his lap, and they waited for news.

The first golden light of dawn was washing over the castle when Albus Dumbledore stepped out of the fire, and sat wearily in one of the leather chairs. The Headmaster watched without comment as Harry sat up and slid over to be tucked under Severus’ arm.

“It would appear that your uncle was the source of the information, Harry. He was apparently upset that he did not receive more money during the years he was forced to endure your presence in his home. In return for a substantial amount of money, he gave a recent acquaintance permission to enter his residence. Arabella attempted to stop them when she recognized Lucius Malfoy, and died. So did your aunt and cousin.”

Harry nodded, knowing that his uncle would have given him up as easily if he’d still been there, his life sold for mere pounds. He may not have liked his family, but he had not wanted them dead, either. It saddened him that Vernon’s greed was responsible for their deaths and Missus Figg’s as well, but it came back again to the fact that they had been killed because of him. Burying his face in Severus’ shoulder, he ignored the rest of the conversation between the Potions master and the Headmaster. 

Severus led him to the bedroom, where they both took a vial of Dreamless Sleep. Harry clung to him as they slept.

* * *


	13. Inishmann

* * *

It was almost noon when Severus opened his eyes, feeling disoriented. It took a moment before it dawned on him that he was back in his bedroom in Hogwarts, and the reason for it. Then the events of the past day flooded back to him: Harry’s aunt and cousin were dead, killed at the hand of his one time friend, Lucius Malfoy. Another layer of guilt for the young man to carry, he thought. No matter how negligent or abusive they had been, they were the last of his blood family, and Severus was sure that Harry would feel responsible. Severus looked down at Harry, who was wrapped tightly in his arms, his pale face turned into his shoulder, his arms encircling Severus’ chest as if he feared that Severus himself would disappear. He stroked a hand gently through the wild raven hair, his arm drawing the youth tight to his side.

“Sev’rus?” 

“I’m here, love. How do you feel?”

Harry leaned back against the arms holding him and blinked up at his lover’s concerned face. He lifted a hand from underneath the blankets, and cupped it around a prickly cheek; his thumb stroked slowly across the thin lips. 

“Thank you.”

Severus sucked the thumb into his mouth and nipped gently. “For what, Harry?”

Solemn green eyes surveyed him. “For being here with me, and for comforting me. I’ve never had anyone to do that before.”

Not knowing how to respond, the Potions master leaned down and kissed Harry softly, gathering him tightly to his chest for a moment. Pulling away, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, drawing the teen up with him to get ready to face the day. A tea tray was waiting in the sitting room, with scones and pastries for their breakfast. The large bay window, enchanted like the ceiling of the Great Hall to show the outdoors, showed a sky that sparkled with mid-day sunshine. 

Harry sat curled up on the window seat, contemplating the lake. Its surface was disturbed by the ripple of the breeze, and by the lazy motions of the giant squid, which was sunning itself in the shallows. Tiredness nagged at Harry, an exhaustion that had little to do with the eleven hour time change they had gone through in the past twenty-four hours. The deaths of his aunt, cousin, and Missus Figg grieved him; the utter senselessness of it enraged him. He had thought the Dursleys a closed chapter in his life on his birthday, but he had not wished them ill. His brain told him that Vernon Dursley was a greedy pig of a man who killed his own family with his actions, but a little voice reminded him that if he had not existed, they would not have been targets. Harry sighed and rubbed his prickling scar.

“Harry.”

Looking up, he saw that Severus was standing beside him, a cup of tea in each hand. Harry smiled his thanks and took the proffered cup, scooting forward on the seat so that Severus could slide in behind him. Feeling a hand tug at the back of his shirt, Harry leaned back into the warmth being offered. An arm looped around his waist, and a kiss was pressed to the side of his head, making the teenager feel cosseted and loved.

“Would you like to discuss this?” 

Harry had to smile. It didn’t sound like Severus had any more practice at comforting someone than he had at being comforted. He snuggled against the lean form.

“I am sad because people I know died violently who didn’t have to; if Vernon hadn’t been such a greedy bastard, they would all still be alive. He knew I was never coming back, why would he try to ‘sell’ me to Malfoy?” Harry asked softly.

“I am not certain about your uncle. As to what Lucius hoped to gain, anything he could give the Dark Lord about you would strengthen his position in the inner circle.”

“Do you think it was Mundungus Fletcher who told Malfoy where he could find Uncle Vernon?’

“I think that is a distinct possibility. I shudder to think what other information the bastard might have sold to him.” 

“Well, what ever he has done, I don’t think Vol…the Dark Lord cared too much. My scar hasn’t flared up at all, and it usually does whenever he is really happy or really mad,” Harry said, sipping on his tea.

“Do you wish to attend the funeral services for your aunt and cousin?”

Harry shook his head. “No, it would serve to honor their memories more if I don’t go, as they both hated me so much.”

The arm around his waist tightened fractionally, but a knock interrupted whatever Severus meant to say. Albus Dumbledore walked into the room; his deep red robes looked subdued in comparison to his usual wardrobe, and he had a somber expression on his face.

“Good afternoon, my boys. How are you both?”

Harry shifted slightly to look at the Headmaster, but did not move away from the Potions master. “A bit sad, sir, but otherwise all right, I think.”

“Harry does not wish to attend the services, Albus, and I see no reason to delay our journey to Inishmaan, if you are in agreement,“ Severus interjected, hoping to divert the conversation from the Dursleys.

The twinkle reappeared in the clear blue eyes, and the elderly wizard surveyed them both over the top of his half-moon spectacles. The Potions master gritted his teeth, knowing that Albus was well aware of how much their relationship had evolved, and in what direction. As the wily old schemer knew, there was no rule against a relationship between a professor and a student of legal age, there were too many methods of determining coercion. 

“Yes, I believe that would be an excellent idea, Severus. It will give us a chance to find out exactly how badly we have been compromised, and allow us to assess the damage.”

The Headmaster stepped closer, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “I will send Hedwig to you, so that you may correspond with your friends, Harry, and I have asked Severus to start lessons for you in some advanced studies that we feel might be helpful.”

Harry nodded, turning back to stare out the window. He knew that there was a lot he needed to learn, if he were to fulfill the Prophecy and survive. There was nothing he would not do to ensure that those he cared for were not hurt or killed by the snake-faced bastard. Laying his head back on the firm, warm chest behind him, Harry tuned out the conversation between his lover and the elderly wizard; he was content to feel the vibrations that rumbled through Severus’ chest, and left the planning to the two older men. 

After the Headmaster departed the dungeons, Harry and Severus dressed in shorts and t-shirts from their bags, then sat down to a late lunch of shepherd’s pie. They were going to Floo directly from Severus’ chambers to the cottage as soon as they were ready, as the Headmaster was of the opinion that it was better not to have anyone in the castle see them. Severus led the way into his private lab, and Harry helped prepare and store the exotic plants and potion ingredients they had brought back from Samoa. Watching as the Potions master restocked his supply of potions to take with them, Harry smiled. The look of intense concentration seemed out of place on the seventeen-year-old face.

* * *

Harry stepped out of the fireplace into a small sitting room lined with bookshelves. The room was flooded with warm, late afternoon sunshine. Large windows framed a view of the ocean to the west, and he moved over to look out at the wild waters of the Atlantic. Harry smiled when he felt arms slide around him from behind, and leaned back into the warm embrace.

“It’s beautiful, Severus.”

“Yes, I love the view of the water from here, and from the bedroom. The cottage sits on the headlands, and there is a path just south of here that goes down to the beach. Come, let me show you the rest of my little home.”

On the far side of the sitting room, there was a small functional kitchen with a table and two chairs, and down a small hallway was the surprisingly large bedroom and attached bathroom. All of the rooms were richly furnished in light-colored golden oak furniture. Burgundy leather armchairs stood in front of the sitting room fireplace, with a small couch in cream brocade off to the side, facing the large window. Richly colored woven rugs covered the gleaming hardwood floors, and the walls were painted a soft white. Deep blues and greens accented the burgundy and cream, especially in the bedroom, where the duvet and hangings were sapphire blue edged in sea foam green and white. The large window along the wall across from the bed also overlooked the ocean. The bathroom held a large shower, and its countertops and sink were done in white marble. Harry put his bag down on the bed, noting the golden oak wardrobe that matched the four-poster, before turning to Severus, who leaned against the doorjamb watching Harry. 

“It is really beautiful, Severus, and I love the view.”

Severus followed the teenager, who still carried an air of sadness, to the window. Taking Harry in his arms, he kissed him softly before turning them both back to the view. They stood watching the waves for several long minutes before separating to unpack their things. Opening the windows, he took in a deep breath of the warm, salt air fragrance of the breeze, enjoying its tang. Eventually, he wandered to the kitchen to check the contents of the cold drawer that Albus was to have stocked for them. Selecting large prawns, Severus decided a light dinner of shrimp scampi and pasta with fresh greens would be good and set to work. 

Harry had just finished putting his clothes away when pain hit him, forcing him to his knees. The white-hot searing of his scar made his head feel as if it was being cleaved in two. Dropping into a world of darkness, Harry concentrated on Occluding his mind. Long, skeletal fingers held a slender, black wand. A short, dark-haired witch lay twitching on the floor in front of him, her screams rending the air of the stone chamber. Torches illuminated several black-robed, white-masked figures that stood watching; a shorter, shaggier wizard stood to one side surveyed the proceedings with some concern. He lifted the spell from the woman and turned toward the lone man.

“You disssappoint me, Fletcher. I believed you when you sssaid you could deliver me thossse loyal to that muggle-loving fool Dumbledore, yet thisss isss the only one you have managed thus far,” Harry turned his scarlet eyes towards his spy, watching as Nagini slithered around his feet.

“Forgive me, Master. Most of the Order has never really trusted me, but I brought you Hestia…”

“Silence, you stupid fool! I want them all! I want Dumbledore brought to his knees, and I want Harry Potter and that traitor Snape found! _Crucio_!”

Pain pulsed through Harry as he coldly held Mundungus under the Unforgivable, the rage he felt at the spy’s inefficiency fueled by the disappointments of the week. The idiot had led Malfoy to the boy’s uncle only after he had left the heavily warded home for good, and with a bodyguard that the mound of useless flesh had identified as Severus Snape. Where could they have gone?

“Wormtail!” he bit out as he released the spell. “Drag this pieccce of filth out of here! I want you to go to Hogwartsss. I want to know who is there and what is going on!”

The scarlet eyes turned again to the witch on the floor.

“ _Crucio_!”

* * *

Harry’s screams brought Severus running from the other end of the cottage, and he found him on the floor near the window, convulsing as if under the Cruciatus Curse. Swearing, he lifted Harry and carried him to the bed, where he tucked the now still form under the duvet, and went into the bathroom for his potions pouch. Gently lifting the teenager’s head, Severus poured a post-Cruciatus potion down his throat, softly murmuring words of reassurance. He removed Harry’s glasses and set them on the small table next to the bed, and laid his hand across the lightning bolt scar; the curse scar looked red and angry, and felt hot; the older wizard was sure he could feel the throb of dark magic in it.

When he was sure that Harry was settled, Severus made his way into the sitting room, where he threw a pinch of Floo powder into the fire.

“Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts!” he called, kneeling down.

“Severus, what’s the matter?” the Headmaster queried sharply, dismayed by the concern he could see on the teenager’s face.

“Harry’s had a vision, a bad one by the look of him.”

“I’ll come through.”

A moan from the bedroom drew Severus back into it, and he could see that Harry was stirring. Sitting down on the bed next to the young wizard, he stroked a hand through the soft raven hair. Unconsciously, Harry leaned into the comforting touch. A sound from the doorway caught Severus’ attention, and he looked up as Albus Dumbledore made his way into the room and stood at the side of the bed.

“Is he all right, Severus?”

“I believe so, Albus. I have given him the appropriate potions.”

As if on cue, Harry rolled over and buried his face in the side of the Potions Master thigh, groaning as his stomach churned. He felt the reassuring hand carding through his hair, and tried to sit up. Strong arms rearranged him so that he was sitting up, his back pressed against a firm chest, strong arms encircling his waist.

“Severus, I need to…Dumbledore...”

“I am here, Harry, Severus called me.” Albus Dumbledore sat on the bed near Harry’s feet.

“Vold…the Dark Lord has Hestia Jones and was torturing her. He was mad at Mundungus because he only brought him one Order member. Then he sent Wormtail to Hogwarts to get in past the wards and gather information. He has been ordered to find out what was going on there and where Severus and I are.”

Harry trailed off, having used up all his energy in one burst, and Severus tightened his hold. The Headmaster stared at him thoughtfully, his eyes resting on the reddened scar the marred the boy’s forehead. He stood, resting a hand on Harry’s shoulder, and looked down at the pair.

“I need to go and see what I can do about protecting Hogwarts against Animagi, and call a meeting of the Order. Please let me know immediately if anything else happens.”

Severus watched the powerful wizard sweep out of the room and heard the sound of the Floo opening. He pressed a kiss to Harry’s temple, glad to feel that his skin was no longer feverishly hot. These visions were debilitating for the young man, whose shoulders were weighted with the expectations of the entire wizarding world. There had to be a way to break the link that tied him to Voldemort, and Severus was bound and determined to find it. He gave Harry another hug before sliding his legs off the bed.

“If you are feeling better, love, why don’t you come keep me company while I fix dinner.”

“Can I fix the pudding?” Harry asked, as he sat up and reached for the glasses Severus held out to him.

“If you promise not to blow up the kitchen.”

The sound of Harry’s laughter followed him out the door.

* * *


	14. Power and Pain

* * *

Harry awoke to the sounds of rain pummeling the roof of the small house and wind buffeting the windows, and he could see from the gray light seeping in through the windows that dawn was coming. He was cocooned in warm blankets, and a warm body spooned against his back. Harry had grown to love the feel of waking up wrapped in those slender arms. Stretching almost like a feline, he moved sensually against the hardness he felt rubbing between his cheeks. With a smile, he moved the hand spayed across his stomach down to cover his own morning erection. Reaching between his legs, he coaxed his lover’s hard cock down until it pressed between his legs, rubbing against the heavy sac of his testicles and across his entrance. Rocking his hips back and forth, he guided the hand on his cock into a fist and began moving it up and down. 

It was not long before Severus was an active participant, tightening one hand around Harry’s erection, while the other crept around him to twist and tease Harry’s nipples. When Harry felt his balls tighten, he let his own hand drop, reaching down between his thighs to stroke the tip of his lover’s penis. He came with a shout, and he felt Severus thrust against his hand, drenching it with his seed as he, too, came with a throaty groan. Waving the mess away with a hand, Harry turned his head for a kiss that Severus was happy to supply.

* * *

As the sun rose, the rain squall gradually dissipated into a heavy mist, leaving behind a heavy fog that enshrouded the tiny island. They spent the morning setting up a makeshift lab in a corner of the small kitchen so Severus could brew a batch of the analgesic he could customize to Harry’s needs. After lunch, Severus took Harry through his paces in an Occlumency refresher, even though both knew that nothing would stop the true visions. Through the lessons of the past year, Harry had become skilled at closing his mind to Voldemort’s direct invasion, but the nightmares and visions had continued.

Harry and Severus curled up on the couch in the sitting room; the Slytherin wrote in a journal, while Harry occupied himself with a book on wizarding tattoos and fealty marks. Harry had discovered while they were still at Privet Drive that Severus had been de-aged to a point just prior to taking the Dark Mark, and had been free of its pain since. Not knowing how much pain the snake-faced bastard could cause the man Harry had finally admitted to himself that he loved, the teen started scouring every book he could find for an answer to his question. He knew that Severus was supposed to take the antidote to the potion before they left for Grimmauld Place in three weeks; this would give his body time to readjust before school started again, but it would also leave him vulnerable to punishment via the Mark. 

While he was pondering this problem, a jolt of heat flashed through his body, and Harry gasped at the sensation. It had not been painful, just uncomfortable, and he felt hot and shaky. Severus jerked his hand away from where it had been stroking through his hair.

“Bloody hell, what was that?” Harry yelped, stripping out of his shirt to scan his chest and abdomen.

Severus stood and stopped the teenager’s frantic motions with a reassuring hand on his arm. “Can you describe what you felt?”

“It was just a flash of heat, sort of like a jolt that went through my whole body!”

“Did it run from head to toe, or start in the center and radiate outward?”

Pausing, Harry took a deep breath, his hand unconsciously rubbing at the center of his chest. “It started in my chest, I think, and radiated outward. It happened so fast, I’m not really sure.”

“Come, sit back down with me.”

Tugging his shirt back over his head, Harry picked up the book he had dropped and sat down next to the Potions master. Severus immediately drew him closer, tucking him back against his side.

“Have you ever wondered why seventeen is the age of majority in the magical world, Harry?” 

Shaking his head, Harry settled in as he recognized the lecture mode his companion had entered.

“Most witches and wizards come into their full powers around their seventeenth birthday, and for all but a select few, it is something that occurs without their conscious knowledge. For those few people who are magically gifted, their magic is so powerful that they actually feel the ‘power surges’ as it were. It is called the Quickening.”

Harry nodded his understanding, cringing slightly at the thought of something else that would single him out as abnormal. “Did you feel it when you came into your full power?”

“Yes, as I recall it was a number of these flashes over a two day period.”

“Well, that won’t be too bad then,” Harry said relaxing, and turning back to his research.

It took almost a week, and enough flashes of heat occurred that Harry took to walking around the cottage in the nude, much to Severus’ amusement. Their days settled into a pattern of brewing, studying, and training, particularly in the morning when the fog and mist were prevalent; the sunnier afternoons were generally spent outside, either walking on the beach, exploring the headlands, or investigating the ancient ruins the island was known for. The older wizard continued to test Harry’s Occlumency skills, and to test his magical development, as well as forcing Harry to continue practicing his wandless magic. They found that his power had increased significantly, impressing the Slytherin and scaring Harry.

Albus Dumbledore came through one morning to see for himself, sending an embarrassed Harry scampering to the bedroom for some clothing. The Headmaster was also impressed with the increase in his magic, telling them both that Harry’s magic rivaled his own, and might even exceed that if the surges continued. Feeling scared and a bit depressed, Harry spent that entire night talking with Severus about the benefits and the drawbacks of being such a powerful wizard; they finally decided that it was information best kept to themselves. The reality was, as Severus pointed out, that Harry would be forced to make a choice about whether to use his full strength, depending on the situations in which he found himself. 

Harry continued to research methods to rid the Potions master of the Dark Mark on his arm, but he was frustrated by the lack of solid information. One book advocated amputating the affected area or limb, while another thought that a potion that deadened the nerves might render the Mark useless. Unfortunately, this would have the side affect of rendering the arm basically useless as well. The only solution with any merit suggested negating the bond in the Mark by bonding with a more powerful wizard. To Harry, this seemed to put Severus back into the same type of situation he was trying to escape. He felt he needed more information about the Dark Mark itself, and hoped to get a better look at it when the older man returned to his true age.

The remaining time flew by for both teens; the last few days cooperated by being sunning and warm. They walked the beach hand in hand, lost in their own thoughts. Neither wanted this stolen time to end. Having forged a friendship based on mutual respect and affection, both were afraid they would lose each other for very different reasons. Neither would discuss it, dancing around the subject that festered between them.

The last day of their stay dawned bright, and they spent the morning packing, and the afternoon making love almost desperately. As they got ready for bed, Severus set a vial of deep blue potion on the bedside table, quietly explaining that the re-aging potion was laced with a sleeping draught so that he could sleep through the changes his body would be making. He watched as Harry nodded solemnly, his emerald eyes looking sad and much older than they had any right to be. A ball of pain blossomed behind Severus’ sternum and threatened to engulf him in misery. It had been a summer that he would never forget, and he cupped the young face in front of him, and tenderly kissed the young man he’d fallen in love with.

“Severus, I…I just want you to know, no matter what happens, I love you.”

Tears blurred his vision, making it difficult to see; Harry felt himself being enfolded in a tight embrace, a hand cupping the back of his head. For a long time, the two just held each other. Eventually, he felt his lover take a deep breath and ease himself away. Taking him by the hand, Harry led him over to the bed and climbed in. He watched as Severus opened the vial, and downed the contents quickly. They settled into bed, arms wrapped around each other, hanging on for dear life.

Harry closed his eyes and relaxed, allowing Severus to believe he was asleep. He felt the arms around him tighten, and a kiss was pressed into his hair.

“I love you too, Harry.”

Tears of joy welled up in his eyes as the older man slipped into a drugged sleep. Harry lit a single candle with a wave of his hand, stroking the silky hair as he watched over his love through the night. The change was slow but steady: the teenaged body grew taller, shoulders broadened, and chest filled out. Harry admired the beauty of the man’s body, and he shuddered when its perfection was marred by the reappearance of the Dark Mark on the inside of the left forearm. There were times when Severus shifted restlessly, as if in discomfort, and Harry stroked his face, whispering words of love and comfort. The light of dawn showed that the re-aging was complete, and Severus seemed to be sleeping naturally.

Harry extinguished the candle and pulled the sheet back, tracing his fingertips lightly over the skin of his lover’s now scarred chest. Lightly kissing the marks, he trailed down the still flat abdomen, and settled between powerful thighs. He was delighted to find a fully erect cock waiting and marveled at it, seeing that it was slightly longer and thicker. Running his tongue over the tip, and catching the twitching prick with his lips, he slid it into his mouth. Bobbing his head, taking the hard length as deep as he could, Harry used his fingers to gently fondle the heavy balls, delighting in the weight and feel of them. He picked up the pace, swirling his tongue over the burgeoning head and caressing his length. Feeling the balls tighten, Harry sucked hard, and was rewarded with a sweet rush of come. 

Crawling back up, Harry kissed Severus lightly on the cheek, his eyes still closed, and headed for the bathroom. Taking a shower, he dressed in shorts and a pullover, planning on what he was going to cook for breakfast. They would have to Floo back to Grimmauld Place by lunch, as the Headmaster had scheduled a meeting with both of them for this afternoon, and then a meeting of the Order the following morning. Harry had decided that he would Floo directly to Hogwarts from Headquarters, believing that the train and students would be safer if it was known that he wasn’t on it. 

A shiver ran down his spine at the thought of having to spend the night in the awful house that Sirius had hated so much. When he had learned that he was his godfather’s sole heir, he had immediately signed the house over to Remus Lupin, who in turn allowed the Order to maintain its headquarters there. Tonight would be the first night Harry actually slept in the residence since the night his godfather died, and he wasn’t sure he could do it, even with Severus at his side. Staring into the mirror, he was disgusted by the scared-looking little boy who gazed back at him. 

He gathered the last of his possessions and opened the door to wake Severus. As he stepped into the bedroom, he saw that the bed was empty. Turning towards the bedroom door, he watched as Severus walked in. No, not Severus, Harry thought as his chest tightened. Professor Snape, dressed in his armor of black robes, stood looking at him, his eyes cold, and his face an unreadable mask.

“If you are ready, Potter, it’s time to go.”

* * *


	15. Grimmauld Place

* * *

Grimmauld Place was the darkest, bleakest house Harry had ever been in, and today it seemed to suit his mood. He and Snape Flooed into the kitchen where Remus Lupin greeted both of them warmly before gathering Harry into a tight hug; Severus ignored the greeting and swept from the room without a backward glance. The fissures in Harry’s heart widened, and it took all his willpower to keep it from shattering completely. 

“Harry? What happened?” his self-appointed godfather asked.

“Nothing, Remus. Professor Snape is back, and I guess we both have some just readjusting to do.”

“Harry.” The last of the Marauders turned Harry to face him, and soft gray eyes probed tired green ones. “You don’t look like you slept at all last night, you are covered in Severus’ scent, and you look like you have just lost your best friend.”

“I think I have, Remus.” 

“Come, sit down. Let me make us some tea, and we’ll talk.” 

“Remus, I…”

“Sit, Harry,” he urged. A cup was pressed into Harry’s hand and he sat down at the long wooden table.

Over the past year, Remus Lupin had become a father figure of sorts, the last of his parents’ friends trying to fill in the void left by his godfather’s death. An important operative who often traveled on assignments for the Order of the Phoenix, the werewolf had tried to spend what little spare time he had with Harry, helping with his extra training in addition to providing emotional support for the young Gryffindor as he tried to cope. The guilt and grief he’d felt over Sirius’ death and the news of the Prophecy had threatened to cripple Harry at the end of last summer, and it had been Remus’ intervention that had allowed him to let go of the majority of the guilty he felt. The man’s gentle, understanding demeanor had been a perfect antidote for Harry’s hot temper and teenaged angst.

Sitting at the table, watching as Remus moved about the kitchen, Harry shuddered at the thought of remaining in this house. He’d always been able to somehow sense dark magic; whether it was a result of the increase in his magic or his frame of mind wasn’t clear, but the residual hatred he felt in this place made his skin crawl. Shuddering again at the thought of the dark magic and ill will this house had harbored during Sirius’ youth, Harry clamped down on his discomfort, as he knew he could not leave with Severus here.

“I would imagine that the return to his true age would take Severus some time to get used to after two months as a teenager. Perhaps that is all it is, Harry, and he just needs a bit of time to himself to adjust,” Remus said as he sat down, placing a plate of toast in front of Harry.

“Yes, you are probably right,” Harry answered tightly.

The sandy-haired man laid a hand on his arm. “Forgive me if I am reading this wrong, Harry, but despite the prickly exterior, Severus is a deeply complex and a deeply insecure man, whose life has never been easy. He would rather push someone away than take the chance of being rejected.”

Harry’s eyes darted up to meet the warm gray ones before dropping back to the tabletop.

“You’re okay with this? I mean, with Sev…Professor Snape and me…well, you know.”

A smile gently curved the older man’s lips. “You mean because he is your teacher or because he is a man?

“Both, I guess.”

“Consensual relationships between teachers and students who are of age are not necessarily encouraged, but there are no rules against them. Do I have a problem with you choosing to have a relationship with a man? That would be hypocritical, don’t you think, considering I’ve done the same.”

Harry jerked his head up. “What?”

“Same sex relationships are perfectly acceptable in the wizarding community, Harry. In fact, most witches and wizards are bisexual, especially when you consider that wizards are able to get pregnant and have children.”

The incredulous look Harry knew his face must sport made Remus chuckle.

“I forget how you were raised, my boy! Yes, you can have babies, Harry; we are wizards, for Merlin’s sake!”

A puzzle suddenly came together in Harry’s head. “You and Sirius were together, weren’t you?”

“Yes, we were,” Remus acknowledged with a sad smile.

The older man deliberately changed the subject, asking Harry about his vacation, and Harry was eager to follow his lead. They occupied the remainder of the morning with Harry telling his former professor all about the beauty of the Samoan island. In turn, Remus filled Harry in on what had happened in his absence, and what his friends had been doing for the past month. They also discussed Voldemort’s recent activities and what they thought he might be planning.

* * *

Severus Snape sat at the small desk in the room allotted to him during those times when it was necessary for him to stay at Headquarters, staring blindly at an empty piece of parchment. The searing pain he’d experienced that morning, after awakening on the heels of an incredibly erotic dream to find the bed beside him empty, returned three-fold. He had known that it would take time for both him and Harry to adjust once he re-aged, but for Harry to be so repulsed that the boy had fled their bed before Severus woke hurt beyond measure. The hope he had felt the night before as they held each other had shriveled and died in the light of dawn.

A wave of pain from the Dark Mark shot through his left arm, as it had several times since he woke up. Flexing his suddenly numb fingers, Severus could do nothing but endure the pain—none of his painkilling potions were effective. Harry had been researching ways to break the bond that tied the Mark to the Dark Lord, but he’d found nothing promising. Well, Severus thought, at least the pain in my arm distracts me from the pain in my heart. The love he felt for the young Gryffindor was immense, and he knew that he had found his one true love, that there would never be anyone else. Even if that true love had rejected him.

* * *

When Severus failed to appear for lunch, Harry pushed away his untouched plate and muttered his excuses. Shutting himself in the library, he began to comb through book after book, covering topics both Light magic and Dark, reading everything he could on magical fidelity marks. By dinnertime, Harry had discovered several different variations of the same bond that would cut any previous ties and pledge the person’s very soul to another. Several of the spells were used in marriage ceremonies to bind the souls of the participants, and there were other versions that were nothing more than enslavement.

Albus Dumbledore found Harry seated on the floor, surrounded by books. Not blinking an eye, he joined the young wizard, sitting with his legs tucked underneath him, the bright blue eyes twinkling merrily.

“You look like you are keeping busy, Harry. I hope you are in a better mood than your companion.”

Harry pinned him with an emerald gaze. “Is Sev…Professor Snape all right, sir? He was…stressed, I think, this morning.”

“Yes, he appears to be back to his normal curt self, which disappoints me. I had hoped that he might retain some of the boy he’d been this summer.”

“Yes,” Harry said around the lump in his throat, “I had hoped he would, too. Professor, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Harry. What is it?”

“Remus told me that there is no rule against a student and a teacher having a relationship at Hogwarts, as long as the student is of age and it is consensual. It that true?”

The Headmaster peered at him over the top of the half-moon spectacles. “Yes, that is indeed true, as there are so many ways of showing coercion or devious intent.”

“Therefore, if a teacher and a student were to bond with each other, it would be allowed?”

The elderly wizard studied the intense look on his face, and Harry was sure he felt the brush of Legilimency, but held his mind open.

“In light of the situation, I think we could make appropriate arrangements to allow the couple to stay together and each continue with their pursuits. I take it you have found something that might help Severus?”

Harry nodded, breathing a sigh of relief, and began to outline the bond that he thought would most benefit the two of them. It was one that allowed the two to share their magic, as well as their thoughts and feeling, and would help Harry control the immense power he had developed. It also had the benefit of cutting off any other ties or bonds either of them might have.

“This sounds like it would eliminate the Dark Mark, Harry. It might also be able to help you with the visions and their effect on you, although I doubt it will sever completely the tie you have with Lord Voldemort.”

The thought had occurred to Harry as well, but he couldn’t do anything without Severus’ consent. “Well, it won’t help either of us while he’s acting like a bloody git, sir.” 

“I agree, my boy, and I think he does need some time to come around, but not too much,” the Headmaster warned. Dumbledore peered at Harry again, his eyes serious. “Don’t let him run away, Harry.”

“I will try not to, Professor.”

* * *

Dinner came and went. Harry stood in the doorway of the library until he was sure the older man was not coming down, and then retreated back into the library. Remus came in to say goodnight around eleven, leaving Harry alone in the dimly lit room. The dark house was deadly quiet, and Harry could feel the tears welling up as his thoughts turned to his godfather. Once they started, Harry was hard pressed to control his anguish, and as he thought of the man hiding in the room upstairs, he felt his heart ache. As Harry cried harder, he started to get mad, and the longer he cried the madder he got. Finally, it was too much, and he threw down the book he was holding and stormed from the room.

Honing in on the room Severus was in by some unknown feeling, Harry waved his hand at the door, and it open quietly. Stepping inside the darkened room, he shut the door and sealed it with locking and silencing charms. Waving up the lights, he found Severus hunched over a small desk, his head in his hands. Moving toward him with a snarl, Harry took in the pale face and the hollow eyes, but was determined to have his say. Stepping in front of the desk, he pinned Severus with a glare.

“You promised me that I would not have to be in this house alone! You promised me that you would be here for me! What happened to your integrity, Snape, did you lose that too when you grew up?!”

The chair he was sitting on went flying as Severus leapt up. Stalking towards Harry, he towered over the teenager, trying to use the difference in height to intimidate him, but Harry stood his ground.

“You should have thought about that before you ran away from me this morning, Potter! You should have thought about the promises you made as well, promises you could not wait to break! After all we…well, it seems that being your bloody bodyguard was the only thing you needed anyway! I am certain you appreciated the other ‘lessons’ you learned as well.”

The words infuriated Harry; hearing Severus say such things, knowing that he could belittle what they had found together, enflamed his temper further. His overwrought emotions were struggling to stay in control, and a swirling breeze blew his hair. Grabbing the front of the black robes, he yanked the man down until they were nose to nose, his teeth clenched.

“You can say anything you want about me, you bastard, but you will NOT belittle the love I have for you, because it is true and deep and won’t ever stop! Hate me all you want, but you can never take away from me what we shared the past two months! Do you understand me?”

There was a shift in the obsidian eyes, and they became hooded as they minutely examined the emerald fire spitting at him from Harry’s eyes.

“Why did you leave me this morning? Were you so repulsed by my body that you had to run to the bathroom, Potter?”

“Run to the…you bloody git! I watched over you all night, had just explored every bit of your body, brought you to a climax, and you were still asleep! I got up so that I could dress and make you some tea before I tried to wake you again!”

Severus closed his eyes, and leaned forward, resting his forehead against the seething young man’s.

“I thought you’d left me…I thought it was a dream…”

“You thought what?!” The wild breeze settled a little, but Harry was still angry and hurt. 

“I just…arrrghh!”

Severus’ knees weakened as pain ripped through his arm again, and he would have fallen had Harry not caught him in his arms. The older wizard buried his face in his young lover’s shirt, stifling the moan of pain he could not contain, and his right hand pressed against the Mark. Tugging Severus to his feet, Harry maneuvered him to the bed and pushed him down. Loosening the buttons of the Potion Master’s high-collared robe, Harry climbed onto the bed and cradled the man to his chest.

“Severus, I love you,” Harry told the trembling Slytherin repeatedly, stroking his back, trying to comfort him. 

When the pain finally diminished, Severus stilled, laying limply again the teenager. Harry continued to stroke a hand through the man’s hair and to gently rub his back.

“I may have found a way to sever the bond to the Dark Mark, Sev, but I don’t know whether we should. I don’t think I’m going to live much longer and if we use the bond…”

Thin lips covered his, devouring his mouth in a kiss that was edged with desperation. Hands pulled Harry down and pinned him beneath the heavier, larger body, stroking him gently. Harry could feel the love being poured to the kiss, and answered it. Bring his arms up, Harry wrapped them around the older man, gently caressing Severus’ face and hair. Breaking the kiss when the need for oxygen became desperate, they held each other for long moments, the hurts of the day still at the forefront of each mind.

“I love you, Harry, and I am sorry that I doubted you,” Severus told him quietly. 

Snuggling closer, Harry started to show the older man that he was forgiven; he was interrupted when both their stomachs rumbled. The pair scowled at each other over the interruption, and then Severus smiled and got up, pulling Harry with him. 

“Why don’t we find something to eat while you tell me about the bond you have found?” 

Harry agreed, and they made their way to the kitchen. Motioning Severus to sit, Harry began to put together sandwiches as he told him about the ancient fidelity bond he had found. The bond would bind their souls to the exclusion of any other ties, allowing them to share each others feelings and magic, and truly make them two halves of one soul. He retrieved the book from the library while Severus waited, and went over the spell as they ate.

“The only part of this I am not sure about is this paragraph here that says should one bond-mate die, the other usually dies as well.”

Severus looked at him with fathomless black eyes. “Why would that bother you?”

“The Prophecy is pretty vague; I’m not really sure that I will survive when I kill Voldemort.” 

“As powerful as we both are apart, I do not believe there will be a problem with you fulfilling the bloody Prophecy if we combine our magic,” Severus told him. “I am more interested in why you would want to tie yourself to an old man for the rest of your life.”

Harry smiled and reached up to stroke a finger down the Slytherin’s cheek before saying softly, “Because you already have my heart and soul, Severus. Because I love you and want to make a family with you, have children after we get rid of that bastard. Are you willing to tie yourself to this foolish Gryffindor brat for the rest of your life?”

Severus took his hand and placed a kiss on the palm, folding Harry’s fingers over it, and smiled. “How soon can Albus get here to perform the bonding spell?”

* * *


	16. Breaking The Dark Mark

* * *

Harry awoke cradled in oddly unfamiliar arms, nestled warmly against a long, lean body. It had been a short night, with little sleep for either of them, as the Dark Mark flared at irregular intervals. Harry had dozed off after the last episode at almost four am, but he was not sure if Severus had slept. Stretching, he arched his back, disturbing his bed partner. The arm banded around his waist tightened; a hand splayed across his stomach, anchoring him possessively to the body pressed against his back. The rough bandage they had wound around the raw skin of the older man’s forearm felt coarse against his bare skin. Turning within the embrace, Harry nuzzled his nose into the warm skin on the side of Severus’ neck.

“What time is it?” he asked sleepily, running his tongue across the sensitive skin.

“Just after six, love,” the dark chocolate voice told him softly, with an edge of exhaustion. 

Harry leaned back into the hand that roamed the length of his back, enjoying the gentle caresses it bestowed before settling on the curve of his arse. Tilting his head up, he pressed a kiss to the underside of Severus’ jaw, and pulled back to slip out of the embrace. Sitting up, he took in the dark circles under the obsidian eyes, the drawn look on the too pale face, and bent down for a lingering kiss.

“Come on, we have to get to Professor Dumbledore, so that we can get rid of that slimy bastard’s mark.” 

The older wizard nodded, knowing the younger man was right. Gathering what strength he had, Severus followed Harry into the bathroom, allowing him to help him shower. When they were dressed and ready, the pair made their way downstairs to the basement kitchen, where they found Remus Lupin and Albus Dumbledore already waiting. The ancient spell book still sat on the table where Harry and Severus had left it the night before, still open to the Proprie Animus Iugum spell. Remus took one look at the Severus and moved to the stove, while Severus dropped wearily into a chair, Harry standing behind it. The sandy-haired wizard returned with a tea tray and pressed a teacup into the Potions master’s right hand, then he handed one to Harry.

“Severus, Harry, have you given this bond the thought it warrants? It is irreversible for the balance of your lives, and I want to make sure you are aware of that before we proceed.”

Two dark heads nodded, and Severus took a sip of hot Earl Grey tea. The Mark was beginning to twinge again, and he stiffened. Harry caught the movement, set his cup on the table, and bent down to unwrap the bandage. The ugly black mark was surrounded by raw, ulcerated skin, and angry red tendrils streaked up Severus’ arm from the site. A hiss of pain was the only sound that escaped him as the Mark began to burn again.

“Professor, please, we have both agreed that this is the only way to break the bond without cutting off Severus’ arm! Please, can we do it now?” Harry pleaded, seeing the agony building in his partner’s face.

“Severus, are you going to be able to participate in the ritual?” the Headmaster inquired, the twinkle gone from the bright blue eyes that held his.

Severus gasped, grasping the hand Harry held out to him, willing the pain back as it threatened to overpower him. “Yes, Albus, I am aware of my surroundings and am coherent enough to consent to the bonding.”

Dumbledore held the pain-filled eyes with his own. “Do you love Harry, Severus?

“Yes, Albus, I do, despite all sound reasoning.”

Remus snickered, and Harry smiled at the man’s tenacity even under excruciating pain. “He means he loves me in spite of myself, sir, and I love him too, despite his sunny disposition.”

“Very well then, we will start,” Albus Dumbledore stood and gestured to them to stand before him. “Remus, if you will act as witness? I don’t think I need tell any of you that this must remain a secret for the time being, for the safety of both of you.”

Everyone had agreed that secrecy was best when they had come to Harry’s birthday party, as they all knew that Severus was already in danger from the children of Death Eaters; if it came out that the two of them had become close, it would further inflame the situation. The members of the Order of the Phoenix would be told about the bonding after the spy was exposed, and Harry would tell Ron and Hermione, as he needed them to help cover his absences. The Headmaster had already indicated to both Severus and Harry that they were to resume with advanced defense and Occlumency training, and Remus had volunteered to help as well.

The ritual itself took only a few minutes. Harry and Severus faced each other and clasped both hands together, crossing right over left. Albus began the incantation from the ancient spell book, his wand making concentric circles as he chanted. Harry could feel the air around them warm until it was as if they were back on the beach in Samoa. Looking down, he saw that their conjoined hands started to glow with a golden light, and sparks of green and red flared between them. His skin began to tingle, and his face flushed as he felt himself becoming erect. Fathomless onyx eyes met his and Harry was suddenly flooded with thoughts and feelings that weren’t his. A searing pain burned into his left forearm, and Harry looked down to see the Dark Mark on Severus’ forearm dissolve in a shower of black sparks. The ripping sensation that Harry felt deep within him was reflected in Severus’ face, and the room suddenly dissolved into blackness.

* * *

Severus became aware a little bit at a time, and years of experience as a spy kept his eyes closed and body still as he assessed his situation. It was Harry wrapped around him, he could tell from the unique scent that filled his prominent nose; the softness under him assured told him they were lying on a bed. The last thing he remembered was the searing pain in the Dark Mark during the bonding ritual, and then everything had gone dark. There was a rustle of clothing near his head, and then he felt the weight of a familiar hand on his forehead. 

“Severus?”

Opening his eyes slowly, he looked up into the blue eyes of the man he loved like a father. Warmth suffused him, and Severus let out a breath.

“Albus?”

“It’s all right, my boy. Everything will be just fine now.” 

Before he could ask anything else, Harry awoke with a start, and his feeling of panic shot through Severus. Tightening his hold on the teenager, Severus stroked a hand through the soft, tousled mess of hair, tucking Harry’s face into his neck. The bond seemed to have been successful as he felt every emotion that flashed through his young mate in rapid sequence. Disconcerted by the jumble of thoughts and emotions, he pressed a soothing kiss to a damp temple.

_Severus?_

_Harry, are you all right?_

_I think so, just really tired. Did the bond work?_

_The bond must have worked, since we are hearing each other’s thoughts, but I am not sure it whether it accomplished our goal._

“Severus? How do you feel?”

“I am well, Albus, as is Harry, and we can assure you that the bonding ritual worked at least partially.”

Both of them looked up when they felt the mattress dip under the weight of the Headmaster, who perched on the edge. Drawing the sheet back, he reached out and tugged Severus’ left arm from where it was wrapped around Harry’s waist. Turning it over, Severus and Harry both saw that the skin was still red and raw, but the ugly black tattoo of a skull and snake was gone. Twin gasps were heard; tears of joy welled in Harry’s eyes and he buried his face back in the hollow of Severus warm throat.

‘I can’t believe it worked! You’re free, Severus, you are free!’

The mix of emotions threatened to drown the Potions master, and he continued to stare at the spot where the Mark had resided for almost twenty years. The notion that he was truly free of the hideous monster he had been foolish enough to pledge himself to at the insistence of his domineering father was incredible. It threatened to overwhelm him, and it was Harry’s quiet strength that anchored him.

Shrewd blue eyes watched the play of emotion on the face of the Potions Master, and the Headmaster smiled, the twinkle flaring in those eyes.

“If you are both able, I ask that you get ready and Floo directly to your chambers, Severus. There is a meeting of the Order here in little more than an hour, and I am going to let slip that Harry is already back at Hogwarts, hopefully making the Hogwarts Express less of a target on Sunday. A couple of days alone will give you the chance to learn how to block the more mundane thoughts from each other, so that you are able to function normally,” he concluded. He smiled benevolently at them before standing and moving to the door.

“Well done, my boys, well done.”

Feeling exhausted, Harry dragged himself out of bed, and tried to smooth the wrinkles in his jeans and tee shirt. In the end, he followed Severus’ example, using a charm to remove the wrinkles from his trousers, before slipping into his robes. They packed the few items Severus had used in their brief stay, then descended a flight of stairs to do the same in Harry’s room. It was almost noon by the time they made their way down to the kitchen. Remus was waiting for them there along with the Headmaster, with quiet congratulations and a hug for Harry.

The pair Flooed directly to Severus’ chambers; after dropping off their trunks in the sitting room, they stumbled into the bedroom. Weary beyond measure, drained by the stress of the past two days of emotional upheaval added to the sleepless nights they both had suffered, they wanted nothing more than to sleep. Harry and Severus fell into bed, wrapped themselves around each other, and slid into an exhausted sleep. 

Harry woke with his head lying on Severus’ warm shoulder, his arm draped across the older man’s chest. The gray light seeping into the room under the bedroom door told him that it was early morning. His stomach rumbled, and Harry remembered that they had woken up sometime last evening, but only long enough to eat sandwiches that had been left by the house-elves before returning to bed. His mouth felt like a hippogriff had tramped through it, and his skin felt sticky. Pressing a kiss into the warm skin under his cheek, Harry quietly made his way to the bathroom, where he showered and brushed his teeth. 

Pulling on a pair of soft cotton trousers, Harry felt Severus waking up, and went to retrieve a cup of tea for him. Setting the cup down on the bedside table, he slid onto the bed as the older wizard pushed himself up against the pillows. Smiling at the thoughts running through Severus’ head, Harry leaned closer to kiss a stubbled cheek, and handed him the teacup.

“I will make sure breakfast is ready by the time you get out of the shower, Sev.”

Severus reached out a hand and cupped his mate’s cheek. Harry gently took the hand, pressing a kiss to the palm before turning the arm to examine the healing skin.

“I am so glad that the bond worked, and that bloody monster can’t hurt you anymore.”

 _As am I, love, more than I can put into words,_ Harry heard in his head, rather than with his ears. Severus sipped his tea as he watched Harry.

“That will take some getting used to…and what did Dumbledore mean by us blocking each other?”

Severus slid his arm out of Harry’s grasp, letting his hand rest on the young wizard’s thigh. “He meant that we will need to be able to attend and teach classes without the distraction of constantly breaking into each other’s thoughts.”

The emerald eyes sparkled. “I did not realize that the bond would allow us to hear each other’s thoughts.”

“Neither did I, but it is not unheard of. It should be fairly easy to throw up light shielding blocks that will make it possible for us to function normally. If either of us is upset or needs to get through to the other, the shields will be easily breeched.”

“Oh,” Harry brightened, “that’s all right them.” 

He smiled as his eyes traced the curve of Severus’ jaw, and lingered on his elegant neck.

_Insolent brat, remove yourself while I go make myself irresistible for you._

Harry laughed as he left the bedroom and went to scrounge up some breakfast. Consciously pushing the thoughts Severus was having in the shower to the back of his mind, Harry hummed as he called the kitchens and requested breakfast. Cup of tea in hand, he made his way to the window seat, and watched as the golden August sunlight painted the lake with a metallic shimmer. He smiled contentedly when Severus joined him, then he leaned back against the bare, muscled chest, content to watch the awakening day.

After breakfast, the bond-mates sat facing each other on the couch, and Severus taught his young lover to erect enough of a barrier to keep out the Potions Master more mundane thoughts. Harry was pleased when he was able to feel Severus probing his thoughts, and when he successfully shielded himself. They tested the depth of the bond, finding that both could feel the pain when one of was hurt, and Harry could still ‘hear’ Severus when he snuck up to the Owlery, so distance did not seem to matter. Whether Severus would suffer from the same visions and pain that Harry did through his scar was something they would have to learn when it happened.

“We need to gauge how much stronger your magic has become, Harry, before you cast a spell with too much power,” Severus told him as they finished lunch.

The younger man had another agenda for the afternoon, though. Harry moved around the small table and tugged the older man to his feet. Moving in front of him, Harry slid his arms around Severus, and leaned up to press a kiss to the warm lips. As Severus pulled him closer, and began to devour the lush warmth of Harry’s mouth. Harry moaned in response, going weak as he felt the arousal that shot through his mate, multiplying that which he felt himself. The couple stumbled their way to the bedroom, where Harry fell onto the bed, pulling Severus down on top of him. Arching against an answering hardness, Severus made love to the young Gryffindor, their hands stroking each other as if it were the first time, feeling the caresses intensely from both perspectives. The coil of tension that Harry felt had an almost desperate edge, and his climax exploded as he felt Severus come through their bond.

* * *


	17. Summer's End

~ _XXX_ ~ thoughts through the bond

* * *

Warm afternoon sun shone down on a young raven-haired wizard standing beside the lake, where the giant squid swam lazily through the shallows. Harry stood braced in an open area near the shoreline, on a small grassy area between the water and the trees. His newly bonded mate stood a short distance away, watching as Harry summoned a small branch from across the lake; he had to duck, as it zoomed past him at a high rate of speed. The branch hit a boulder on the shoreline and shattered. Harry shrugged his shoulders and tried not to look sheepish.

~ _Try controlling the strength of your spell, love, and do it again._ ~ 

Harry turned back towards the lake and looked for something else to summon, spotted a raven sitting on a branch. “ _Accio_ raven,” Harry whispered, cupping his hands in front of him. 

Amazingly, the bird flew gently into his hands before taking off with a loud squawk. A brilliant grin split the young wizard’s face, and he felt similarly pleased feelings pass through his new mate. The tall, dark-haired wizard was dressed in black muggle jeans, a short-sleeved royal blue pull-over, and sandals, while Harry was wearing a pair of khaki shorts, a green t-shirt, and trainers. The temperature was warm for Scotland, even at the end of August, and Harry had insisted that this last afternoon before the students returned to Hogwarts be spent outside. 

It had been two days since they bonded, and they had spent yesterday doing little more than talking while wrapped in each other’s arms, making plans for the start of term. Harry’s fears about their pending separation had alarmed the Potions master, the edge of desperation palpable through their bond. They had strived to arrive at a workable solution that would keep their relationship a secret from the students, yet still give them time together. The Headmaster had informed Professor McGonagall of their bonding, and Harry would be telling Ron and Hermione, so they would not be concerned by any late night absences or excessive detentions for Harry. There was some apprehension on Harry’s part at the idea of telling Ron Weasley, but he hoped that his best friend had matured to the point that he would accept Harry’s choice. Knowing that Draco Malfoy had spent the summer at his father’s side, raping and murdering muggles, sent a chill down Harry’s spine. He was not looking forward to attending classes, knowing that he and his friends would be facing those cold gray eyes.

~ _Are you going to try something else, Harry, or just stand in the sun and daydream?_ ~

Harry grinned and looked at his mate. “ _Accio_ Severus.”

The older wizard took two stumbling steps before lifting his feet and allowing the spell to carry him toward Harry, arms crossed over his chest, a look of resignation on his face. Feeling the pull of his magic more with the heavier object, the young wizard concentrated carefully so he didn’t drop the older man. As his mate gently settled down in front of him, Harry grinned broadly; preoccupied with his successful use of wandless magic, he was not prepared when Severus sprang at him, knocking him down and pinning him to the soft grass. The Potions master ruthlessly plundered the Gryffindor’s soft lips until they were both breathless, then pulled back and ran a hand down the right side of Harry’s torso. Finding the right spot, he began to tickle the young man mercilessly. 

Harry convulsed with laughter, trying to throw the Slytherin off as he begged him to stop. “Oh pleeeeeease, stop it!”

Pulling his wayward fingers back, Severus quirked an eyebrow at the younger wizard and waited, his fingers still poised. Harry choked as he tried to draw a deep breath, watching as Severus wiggled his fingers suggestively, and Harry squirmed at the mere thought of being tormented again.

“Okay, okay! I won’t summon you ever again, really… unless I really need you. Aaarrkk!”

Feeling that the apology lacked remorse, Severus tickled the young man again for a few seconds before leaning down to kiss the tip of Harry’s nose. “See that you remember that.” 

Climbing to his feet, he helped the younger man up before wrapping his arms around Harry’s shoulders and kissing him. Harry accepted the embrace and slid his arms around the slender waist as he deepened the kiss. Pulling back slightly before things got completely out of hand, the Potions master held his young mate against him, closing his eyes at the feeling of rightness that flooded through them both.

“I believe we’ve practiced enough this afternoon, love. It's quite astonishing, the level of power you have developed. I think next we should concentrate on refining your control over the wandless magic, if you’d like.”

“It does seem like I can feel the magic pulsing inside me when I use it, Sev, and it would make sense to be able to do most things without a wand, if I can learn to direct the flow,” Harry nuzzled the sensitive spot beneath an ear. 

“If you insist on distracting me, Mister Potter, we will never get to Hogsmeade this afternoon.”

Harry stepped back, pursing his lips in a mock pout. As he turned toward the castle, a searing, white-hot pain split his forehead, and he dropped to his knees. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see that Severus had fallen beside him. Then everything went black. The pain in his head made if feel like it was being cleaved in two, and Harry struggled through the darkness, his stomach churning and rolling. The searing pain flowed through him, with a fainter echoing pain, and Harry knew what had made Voldemort so angry. An impression of a nervous little man in a funny hat shot through his mind, and a wave of sadness flashed through him.

The pain finally abated to the point that Harry was able to push up to his knees and turn his head to retch on the grass when his churning stomach finally let loose. Beside him, he could hear Severus doing the same, and suddenly knew what the echoing pain had been; his new mate had also suffered through the vision. Crawling over to where the Slytherin was attempting to stand, Harry reached out his hand to grasp the older wizard’s arm.

“Did you see the vision or did you just feel the pain?” 

Severus wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and sat back down on the grass, pulling Harry towards him. He had seen a fuzzy image of what he laughingly called Voldemort’s ‘throne room’, and had watched in growing horror and pain as a man he knew was tortured by the Cruciatus Curse. The agony that had seared him still battered against his brain, and he wondered how the teenager had withstood this type of pain for the past three years without any complaint. 

“I am afraid that I felt a great deal of pain and saw a somewhat blurry image of the Dark Lord’s favorite chamber.”

“I was afraid of that,” Harry said, sitting beside him. “That is the room I usually see when he is torturing people, but who was the little man? He looked familiar, but I could not tell if he was a prisoner or another spy.”

Severus rubbed his temples. “The wizard was Dedalus Diggle, Harry. He is a member of the Order, and I believe he was reporting our bonding, as well as the fact that we were already back at Hogwarts. I was unable to decipher whether he was giving the information voluntarily, or not.” 

Harry stood slowly, extending his hand to the older wizard. “Do you think he was under the Imperius Curse?”

Standing, the taller man tugged Harry against his side and they began to slowly walk towards the castle together. “I do not know, Harry, but I believe whatever plans the Dark Lord had for tomorrow have been changed, based on his level of rage at the news. You have never missed riding the train in the past, and I am sure Draco Malfoy had instructions on what to do to you during the journey.”

“Yeah, a portkey directly to the ‘throne room’ probably,” Harry muttered, the pain in his head slowly abating.

“Indeed, if not directly to a nice dungeon holding cell.”

The pair made their way directly to the Headmaster’s office. Albus Dumbledore ushered them in, handing each a cup of tea as they seated themselves across from his desk. A plate of biscuits appeared on the small table between their chairs, and Harry nibbled on one to settle his stomach as he and Severus described the vision to the Headmaster. The powerful wizard nodded absently at the conclusions the pair had drawn, not at all surprised that the depth of their bond allowed Severus to see and feel what Harry did. 

“Albus,” the Potions master made sure he had the man’s attention. “Harry has become quite skilled in Occlumency over the summer, and it has become second nature to shield his mind. How is it that these ‘visions’ come through so vividly, so painfully?”

The blue eyes took in both of the dark-haired young men over the top of the half-moon spectacles, his long fingers steepled in front of his face. “I believe that the connection Harry has with Lord Voldemort is physically manifested in the dark magic he transferred to Harry when he gave him the scar. It is not a connection that can be easily shielded or severed, due to the strength of the magic used to cast the spell.”

Severus nodded his understanding and stood, knowing that Dumbledore had tasks to complete. The Order would need to reinforce the security of the Hogwarts Express in light of news that there had been a plot to attack it, even if the main threat seemed to have been mitigated. Taking a step towards the door, he did not have to look to know that the young Gryffindor was following him.

“Severus?” At this, the Slytherin turned back to see the Headmaster move from behind his desk. He drew a small, square parcel from the deep pocket of his fuchsia and gold robes, and extended it to the Potions master.

“You found them,” he said, accepting the package. “Excellent, Albus, thank you very much for taking care of that for me.”

“It was my pleasure, dear boy,” the Headmaster replied, his bright blue eyes twinkling merrily.

Leading the way to the dungeons, Severus held the door to his chambers open so that Harry could precede him. Laying the parcel on the small table in front of the fireplace, he made his way to his private office to retrieve two small vials of a light blue potion. Returning to the sitting room, he found Harry seated on the window seat with his legs curled up underneath them, staring out the window,. The older wizard could feel that his mate in a contemplative mood. He handed him the mild headache potion before picking up the square package and sliding behind Harry on the seat. 

“Severus?”

“Yes, love?” He stripped away the parchment to reveal a black velvet box.

“Will you help me find a spell or a potion that will separate Voldemort’s soul from the foul thing he calls a body? I think it is the only way to ensure the essence of him dies when the time comes.”

It bothered Severus that his seventeen-year-old mate had to ponder something as dire as this. “Yes, Harry, I will help you find what we need to get rid of that sadistic bastard.”

“Thank you.”

Severus tugged the younger man back against his chest and looped his arms around him.

“When this is over, Harry, would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

Holding his breath, he waited for a verbal response. He could feel his mate’s confusion and mirth through the bond. 

~ _I thought we were already ‘married’, Severus._ ~

Severus, determined to do this properly, refused to be drawn into an internal dialog.

“We are soul-bound and recognized as mates, Harry, but I love you and would like us to be married in an open ceremony to acknowledge that, as soon as it is safe to do so.”

Harry turned in his arms, half straddling his lap, and those emerald orbs penetrated his. “I love you very much, Severus, and would be honored to marry you.”

Severus lifted the small box up between them and opened it. Two silvery rings sat on a bed of black velvet; ancient Celtic runes in bright gold decorated the outer surface of each thick band, and a marquise cut diamond set flush in the metal of each. They were very masculine rings, tastefully and exquisitely crafted, and appeared to be very old. Harry gasped as he ran a finger over the edges of both rings, jerking his hand back as one ring glowed golden.

“Your ring has chosen you, my love.” Severus lifted the ring out of the box and carefully slid it onto the ring finger of his mate’s left hand, where it glowed again briefly.

Harry copied the action, taking the other ring out and sliding it onto Severus’ left hand, watching as it glowed as well. A warm feeling invaded his body and spirit as he looked up at the older wizard. 

“The ring is infused with ancient magic, from a time where love and blood were mixed to create the strongest of marriage bonds. It will protect you and help me locate you if something were to happen. Albus has added his protections as well, including an emergency portkey, which will either take you directly to me or directly to our bedroom, depending on how you activate it. Mine is identical.”

Sliding his hands into the mass of soft, wild hair, Severus tilted his head to meet the full lips, taking them in a searing kiss. Hands roamed over his chest, sliding up under the shirt he wore, stroking his warm skin. Passion flared between them, their magic crackling around them as they slowly stroked each other, entwining their bodies as their tongues were mating. Without conscious thought and without being aware of moving, Severus found himself on his back, naked, on the soft cotton sheets of their bed, his young mate sprawled across him.

Harry looked down into the lust-glazed dark eyes and smiled. Pressing a kiss to the firm jaw, he trailed wet lips down the slender curve of Severus’ throat. Stopping to suckle at the juncture of the neck and collar bone, he kissed his way to the soft patch of hair between the flat nipples. Sucking one nib strongly into the wet heat of his mouth, Harry used his wandering fingers to tweak the other, and was rewarded as his mate groaned beneath him. Enjoying the tingle of combining magic, Harry traced the edge of the sternum, and plunged his tongue into a warm bellybutton. A string of disjointed words encouraged him, and Harry responded by using his hands to gently spread Severus’ thighs.

Thumbs dancing along the sleek skin of his mate’s inner thighs, Harry flicked his tongue across the twitching tip of the hard cock, lapping at the pre-cum. Sliding his lips around the head prompted a throaty moan from above; encouraged, he slid his lips down, taking as much of the thick penis as he could. Slowly bobbing up and down the hard shaft, one hand carefully fondling his balls while the other slid down to stroke the puckered entrance, Harry pleasured his lover. Pulling his questing hand away for a moment, he silently summoned the lubricant from the bedside table.

Slicking up his hand, Harry eased a finger passed the tight ring, his mouth still lapping at the hard cock. He could feel the ball sac tightening as he slipped a second finger in, and he used his fingers to press down hard at the juncture of the erect member, bringing another protest from Severus. Fingers slowly slid in and out, twisting to brush across the sweet spot as his lover had taught him, the electric spark jolting straight to his own cock as he felt the sensation through the bond.

~ _Now, Harry, NOW! I can’t stand…_ ~

Feeling the readiness of his soul mate, Harry pulled his fingers out, let the cock slip out of his mouth with a soft pop, and grabbed a pillow to shove beneath the lean hips. Harry’s oiled hand slid over his own erection, and he placed the blunt head of his throbbing cock at his partner’s entrance. Leaning down to kiss him, Harry found Severus had his own ideas; he pushed back and impaled himself. Harry gasped, stilling the hips with a bruising hand before giving into both their wishes, and pounding his cock deep into the velvet heat. The tingle of magic and the sensations from the link swirled inside him, tightening the coil in his stomach, Harry reached down to grasp Severus’ cock, only to find the man stroking it already, his dark, intense eyes latched onto Harry’s. Even as he watched, Severus climaxed, creamy spurts spilling onto their joined hands. It was too much, and with two more strokes, he plunged deep, exploding and filling his beloved. 

A wave of his hand cleaned them both, and Harry collapsed to the side, only to feel himself pulled into a warm embrace.

~ _Gods, I love you, Sev! That was…_ ~

~ _Brilliant. Yes, my Harry, it was. And I love you._ ~

Cocooned in a protective embrace, the lovers drifted off into a restful sleep.

* * *


	18. Start of Term

* * *

Harry paced nervously in the sitting room of the chambers he shared with his mate, his school uniform and robe neat and wrinkle free. The enchanted window showed a line of thick gray clouds coming in over the lake, encroaching on the warm sunshine he and Severus had enjoyed for the past few days. The Potions master appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, slipping his black teaching robes over a black silk shirt and black trousers. Moving to join him, Harry reached up and began to help button the row of tiny black buttons that ran up the front of the robes, their fingers brushing slightly.

“There is no need for you to be nervous, love,” Severus told him softly.

“I know, Severus, but I guess I need to see that everyone is here and safe before I can settle down.” 

Leaning closer, Severus pressed a kiss to the lightning bolt scar that marred the smooth surface of his bond-mate’s forehead, then gathered the younger man into a gentle embrace. An arm wrapped around Harry’s waist, the other hand sliding up to cup the back of his head, fingers weaving into the soft raven hair. Tilting his head up, Severus dipped down and captured the soft, full lips in an unhurried kiss, relaying the love and contentment he felt in the deep, sensual onslaught. Harry leaned into his lover, accepting the love and reassurance being offered, his arms sliding under the heavy robes to encircle the slender waist.

Drawing away reluctantly, Severus brushed a hand through the soft hair, loving the feel of it against his fingers. Harry had let it grow that summer, as much as the wild mass would allow; the hair at the crown of his head didn’t seem to grow near as fast as the back and sides, leaving the top looking like the Gryffindor had just gotten out of bed, while the back and sides had been tamed slightly by the additional weight of the longer hair. Studying the younger wizard, his eyes took in the lean, sturdy body, still too thin, but slowly filling out with a regular summer diet, and he knew Harry was pleased that he had added several inches to his height, so that he now stood only half a head shorter than the Potions master. The brilliant green eyes, the face that had sharpened a bit, losing the roundness of youth, added to the changes the summer had brought all made Harry Potter a devilishly handsome young man.

“And all yours, love,” Harry responded with a smirk to Severus’ inner monologue.

Harry waved a hand down the front of the Slytherin’s robes, and the little buttons suddenly fastened themselves. With a smile, he leaned in and nestled his face into the warm neck of his partner.

“I am not the only one who changed over the summer, Sev. Your time as a seventeen-year-old seems to have done you good as well,” he said as he ran a hand up the lean, muscled back.

“Indeed, my Harry, it would seem that chasing after you for the past two months has had some benefits,” Severus smirked as he gently pushed the teenager to arm’s length. “Now, we need to get to the Great Hall, as the train will be arriving at any moment.”

With a final kiss, they turned and made their way out of the dungeon chambers and into the hallway just down form Severus’ potions classroom. From this moment forward, Harry would only be able to enter the rooms through this hallway under his invisibility cloak; otherwise, he would have to Floo to his new home. The fireplace in their sitting room had been networked to several other strategically located fireplaces in the castle, including the Headmaster’s office, Professor McGonagall’s office, the hospital wing, and the Gryffindor common room. The wards protecting the Potions master’s rooms had been adjusted to recognize Harry’s magical signature, and the bonded pair knew that they needed to be discreet to keep themselves safe. Madam Pomfrey, Professor McGonagall, and the Headmaster were the only ones who knew of the bonding, although Ron and Hermione would be informed after they arrived.

Approaching the Entrance Hall, Harry could see Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall standing in front of the huge oak doors that guarded the entrance to Hogwarts castle. The doors stood open, and a patch of blue sky was visible overhead as they approached. As he neared the doors, Harry could see that the pair had been conversing with Hagrid, who stood at the foot of the stairs. A line of thestral-drawn carriages stood ready in front of the castle, and as he moved into the doorway, the wail of a train whistle sounded in the distance.

“’ello, Harry, Professor Snape, ‘tis good to see ya. Well, I’d best be off to the station now,” Hagrid told them, glancing at Harry with a smile. “Would ya like to ride down wi’ me, Harry?”

A brilliant smile broke across the young Gryffindor’s face, and Severus had to scowl to keep from smiling. He knew that Harry could feel the smile through their bond, as the young man carefully refrained from looking in his direction, glancing instead at his Head of House and the Headmaster, who both nodded in approval. He scrambled down the steps and into the carriage with the half-giant, excited to see his friends. It would be nice to greet them on the platform.

Harry helped Hagrid position the carriages and make sure the little boats were all ready for the incoming first years, all the time listening to his first real friend talk about his summer and how much progress his half-brother Grawp was making at learning to speak English properly. Hagrid was very proud of the young giant and his chest swelled as he told Harry that Grawp was now able to write his own name. As they made their way back up to the platform, the Hogwarts Express was just pulling to a stop, and the doors to the compartments flew open.

There followed an explosion of noise: Hagrid calling for the first years, the many excited voices of the returning students, and the final whoosh of steam being released by the engine. The cacophony all but covered the multiple cracks of Apparation. Harry caught the sound at the edge of his hearing, drawing his attention from a glimpse of red hair bouncing through one of the doors. His eyes widened in horror as he saw the black-robed, white-masked figures popping into existence at the far edge of the station.

~ _Severus! Death Eaters are Apparating into Hogsmeade station!_ ~

His wand was in his hand without thought and he fought his way through the students, grabbing sixth and seventh year students by the arm and whispering urgently. The last thing they needed was mass panic on the platform. Hagrid was in front of him suddenly.

“Hagrid! Death Eaters at the end of the platform! We need to get the younger students away from the station!” 

Hagrid’s beetle-black eyes darted to the end of the platform, where at least a dozen dark figures were advancing on the students. His pink umbrella was in his hand and the half-giant sent up red wand sparks and shouted for the students to follow him. The younger students looked scared but quickly gathered the obvious first years and helped move them toward the boats docked at the edge of the lake. Hagrid hovered at the rear of the pack, ushering the younger students of him. 

Harry spotted Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and most of the seventh year Gryffindors, all of whom had stopped when they saw the wand sparks. Gesturing towards the approaching figures, which were now shooting spells at the closest students, Harry moved forward. 

“Death Eaters! Ron, Hermione, get the DA and follow me!”

In moments, they were surrounded by spell-light; Harry dove to one side, moving away from the platform as he began to cast several varieties of blasting and stunning spells. Without looking, Harry knew that members of the group he had trained for the past two years flanked him. At the front of a wedge, the young wizard led the way directly into the path of the invading group, the DA fanning out to protect the students who had not been able to escape with Hagrid. Harry could hear the sounds of panicked screams behind them, and fought harder, taking out the nearest Death Eater. 

Glancing to his right, he saw Hermione dueling with a short Death Eater, and a jet of purple spell-light flashed. Without thinking, Harry conjured a shielding spell and threw it around his best friend; the spell rebounded off the shimmering surface to strike the caster, dropping the Death Eater to the ground. Ignoring the surprised expression on the witch’s face, Harry turned, his anger tightly controlled and channeled into the force of his spells. He had cut a path down the middle of the Death Eaters, isolating the two halves as they fought. Many of the seventh years were easily forcing back the black-robed figures as they dueled. 

Just as he felt they had managed to get the upper hand, the scar on his head exploded with pain, and Harry slipped to his knees as the sheer agony made his legs weak.

“Voldemort!” he hissed through clenched teeth.

The tall, skeletal figure stepped from behind a group of Death Eaters who rapidly fell back behind him, pausing in their duels to observe their Master. Scarlet eyes were just visible beneath the hood of his black robes.

“Well, well, Mister Potter, how kind of you to make yourself accessible today after hiding so well all summer.”

“Actually, I had a lovely summer, thanks, Tom.” Harry sealed his mind, ignoring the pain in his scar as he stood to face the evil wizard.

“So I understand. How is your husband, Potter?”

Harry ignored the gasps he heard around him, grinning as he realized that Voldemort was actually giving them the time they needed with his banter.

“Severus is absolutely wonderful, Tom. He’s quite happy to be out of the spying game.”

The scarlet eyes flared and Harry tensed in anticipation; he felt the probe of Legilimency, and blocked it easily. Harry felt Severus through the bond as he, Dumbledore, and the teachers ran toward the platform. A hiss of irritation was heard from the snake-faced bastard in front of him, and Harry waved his fellow students back as he stepped closer.

“Your relatives did not fair as well, Potter!”

“Just like you to attack school children, Tom, they are almost as easy prey as the helpless Muggles you take such pleasure in killing, including my aunt and cousin. Do your loyal followers know what a coward you are? Or what a hypocrite? Do they know you are a mere half-blood yourself?”

With an enraged roar, a jet of indigo blue spell light erupted from the end of Voldemort’s wand.

“ _Protego_!” Harry’s shield held. “ _Stupefy_!’

Voldemort easily blocked the spell and Harry cast another spell as soon as he had released the first, not giving the Dark Lord time to cast his own. Around him, Harry could hear the sound of dueling and did not take the time to look around. He conjured the golden shield that Dumbledore had taught him last year and pressed toward Voldemort, who continued to block his spells easily with his own shimmering silver shield. Harry stopped as Voldemort spun and disappeared.

“ _Crucio_!”

The pain seared his nerves and Harry fell to the ground, his muscles contracting in agony, his body bowing. Voldemort’s cold, high-pitched laughter angered him; focusing with all of his might, Harry pulled his magic together as best he could and found the strength to roll to the side. He heard Riddle gasp as he pushed to his feet, swaying shakily.

“ _Expelliarmus_!” 

Voldemort’s wand flew out of his hand, only to be immediately summoned back to him with wandless magic. 

“ _Petrificus Totalus_!” 

The evil wizard easily blocked the spell, glancing away from Harry to take in the battle going on around them. Harry could hear the sounds of Apparation around him, but did not know whether the sounds signaled Death Eaters Disapparating or Order members Apparating in. He threw another, stronger stunner, which was also blocked, his legs trembling as he took a step towards the black-robed figure. 

“ _Avada Kedavra_!” 

As if in slow-motion, Harry could see the jet of green spell-light aimed at the tall redhead to his left, and he sprang into action without conscious thought. Diving towards Ron, Harry hit him with his body, knocking them both to the ground, but not before feeling his skin implode with heat as the Killing Curse struck a glancing blow on his left shoulder. The last thing he heard before darkness took him was Severus screaming his name in his mind.

Severus cast one last spell at the retreating Death Eaters, and turned in time to see the Dark Lord cast the killing curse at Ronald Weasley. The teenager was turned away, checking on a bound prisoner, and had no hope of seeing the curse before it hit him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a raven-haired teen dive forward to push Weasley to the ground, the curse brushing against his arm as he rolled. Harry.

The explosion of pain that flooded the bond threatened to send him to his knees, and the Potions master staggered before regaining his balance. Running across the platform, he knelt and rolled Harry over, relieved to find him unconscious but breathing. Shaking from the aftermath of the effects of the Cruciatus Curse his bonded had suffered, as well as the pain Voldemort had inflicted through Harry’s scar, Severus was not sure he’d be able to get the younger wizard to the hospital wing.

“Professor Snape! Let us help!”

Hermione Granger and a deathly pale Ron Weasley knelt beside him. Between them, they were able to levitate Harry and steady the Potions master. Headmaster Dumbledore appeared beside them and pressed a scrap of cloth into the Gryffindors’ hands. Severus gathered the unconscious teen in his arms and they were portkeyed directly to the hospital wing. 

Madam Pomfrey immediately guided them to the closest bed, and began to work on Harry.

“What happened?” she asked quietly, sending Ron to the potions storage cabinet for several vials.

“He dueled the Dark Lord, Poppy, and was put under the Cruciatus for several minutes. After that, he was brushed by the Killing Curse.” 

The mediwitch had finished waving her diagnostic wand over the still figure, and turned to look at him in astonishment. “Not the Avada…”

“Yes, ma’am, he pushed me out of the way of it,” Ron said blankly, his face still too pale, as he handed three vials to the nurse.

“All right then,” the witch took the vials, and directed the tall youth to another bed, “it appears I have my work cut out for me, but he will live, I assure you.”

* * *

It was dark when Harry regained consciousness; he ached, and there was a dull throbbing in his head. Without opening his eyes, he knew he was not in the hospital wing; the coolness and scent of cinnamon and sandalwood told Harry he was in their rooms in the dungeons. The warm expanse of skin his head was resting upon and the strong arm banded around his waist told him that Severus was with him. Shifting slightly, he lifted his head and forced his eyes open. Severus loosened his grip slightly and covered the hand resting on his chest.

“Sev’rus? Did we miss the feast?”

“I am afraid so, love. How do you feel?”

“Just stiff and sore, I think. Was anyone else hurt?

Albus Dumbledore leaned into his range of vision, smiling gently at him. “There are several students in the hospital wing for the night, my boy, but they will all be fine. You were injured the worst during the attack. We did lose 5 students, however, two students from Slytherin House and one each from the other Houses, who returned for the term with the Dark Mark. All of them were sixth and seventh years.”

Harry wanted to ask more questions, but the pull of sleep was too strong. The last thing he felt before he gave in to the darkness was the press of a kiss to the top of his head.

* * *


	19. Schedules and News

* * *

Harry was awake early the next morning, unable to move his left arm, his whole body aching, and his stomach grumbling about its empty state. Smothering a groan, he was startled when his pillow moved and a hand began to stroke through his hair. Harry tried to move, only to have a sharp pain shoot through him. The arm around his waist tightened, holding him firmly.

“Continuing to move will only cause additional pain, Potter, so be still!” Severus growled, making Harry smile. He knew the man he was bonded to would not call him that if he were badly hurt, and the calmness he felt flowing through their bond reassured him. Relaxing into the warm embrace, Harry was dismayed to find his bladder sending out urgent signals.

“Sev’rus,” his mouth was dry. “Will you help me to the loo?”

The Potions master eased him onto his back, immobilized his left arm with a sling, and cast a feather-light charm on Harry before picking him up to carry him to the bathroom. Standing the young Gryffindor up in front of the toilet, and bracing him from behind as the teenager took care of his needs.

“Sure you don’t want to hold it for me?” Harry grumbled, embarrassed that he was too weak to take care of himself.

“I would love to,” came a purr in his ear in the voice that made his knees weak for a completely different reason, “but Poppy said I wasn’t to excite you.”

Settling the younger man back into bed, Severus pulled on his dressing gown and made his way out to his potion stores. Regardless of the front he knew the younger man was trying to put up, the Slytherin could feel through their bond the discomfort that Harry was suffering. Retrieving a vial of a pain-relieving potion, he also took the breakfast tray that had been charmed warm by the house-elf and left in the living room. Carrying it into the bedroom, he settled the tray onto the end of the bed before handing the Harry the vial. Taking in the pale face and trembling hand, Severus propped the teen up with pillows and settled the tray across his legs before helping himself to a cup of tea. 

Downing the potion and handing the vial to Severus, Harry looked at the bowl of warm porridge topped with strawberries, hoping he could keep it down. He could felt the gaze of his mate, and spooned a bit of porridge into his mouth, letting the sweet warmth slide down his throat.

“The Headmaster has canceled classes for today and tomorrow, giving the students injured a chance to get back on their feet. You are under orders to remain in bed,” Harry flashed a weak grin at him, “and rest. Poppy may let you up to start classes with the others if you behave.” 

Harry took another bite of porridge, glad to find his stomach agreeable. Pausing, he looked pointed at the older wizard’s cup of tea, smiling as the man grabbed a second spoon, and helping himself to a strawberry from Harry’s bowl. 

“I remember the Headmaster saying something about losing five students to the Dark Mark, what did he mean? I didn’t think you could check every student for it.”

The Potions master captured another strawberry with his spoon and popped it into Harry’s mouth. Arching an eyebrow at the younger man’s grin, he snagged one for himself and took a sip of tea before he spoke.

“Eat, love,” Severus told him. “After the attack, Albus had each Head of House gather their students in to the common rooms to speak to them about what had happened. The five students had been marked on the 31st, and the waves of Dark Magic radiated off of them. Albus was able to isolate them and all five freely admitted to having taken the Mark of their own volition. They have been expelled and their wands confiscated by the Aurors, who will test them for Unforgivables.”

“Who?” Harry asked around another bite of porridge.

“Andrew Kirke of Gryffindor, Kevin Entwhistle of Ravenclaw, Megan Jones of Hufflepuff, and the Slytherins were Terence Higgs, Miles Bletchley.” Severus told him quietly, a tired, pinched look stealing over his face. “I had believed the Dark Lord convinced that the marking of students was not a plausible action.”

A sudden thought struck Harry with such force that he gasped, causing Severus’ head to snap up and their eyes meet.

“It’s not the ones who were Marked that we should be worried about, Severus; it’s the ones who weren’t. Voldemort knew students would be checked, especially when he staged an attack so close to Hogwarts! His real spies are still here!”

The Potions master nodded as the truth of his mate’s statement became apparent. It was exactly how the evil wizard would function, sacrificing a few unimportant followers to draw attention from the more suitable students he was using as agents within the school. His mind quickly poured over the possible candidates, disregarding the obvious ones such as Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott, and those too thick to be much help, such as Goyle and Crabbe, all of whom were Death Eaters in training, and all still bore watching. There were several Ravenclaws who would be good candidates as well as the older Slytherins.

Between them, the two wizards finished the bowl of porridge, and Harry drank a goblet of pumpkin juice. Leaning back into his pillows, Severus watched him closely as he banished the tray back to the kitchens. The seventeen-year-old was still deathly pale, and he was reminded of just how close he had come to losing the young man he’d come to love more than his own life the day before. Even Poppy wasn’t sure why the young Gryffindor had survived the Killing Curse, except to wonder if the protection his mother gave him still held.

Settling his soul-mate back under the bed covers; Severus stroked the soft hair back from the scarred forehead. A sleepy smile passed Harry’s lips as his eyes fluttered shut, content with the love that the Slytherin sent him through their bond. He continued slowly carding his fingers through the soft raven hair until the younger man’s breathing indicated he was asleep. Pressing a kiss to the lightning bolt scar, Severus moved off the bed, and made his way to the bathroom to shower and dress. He needed to look in on his Slytherins, after speaking to the Headmaster. 

Making his way to the Slytherin common room an hour later, the Potions master carefully checked on Harry through their bond, pleased that the teen was still sleeping. Leaving the bond unshielded, he stepped into the dimly lit dungeon room crowded with the students of Slytherin House. The quiet conversation died quickly as the students noticed his arrival. As he stood watching them, seeing how they had segregated themselves into groups, the largest with a coolly smiling Draco Malfoy at its center, Severus began to roll up his right sleeve. He had foregone his customary black robes on this occasion, dressing in black trousers, a black shirt, and vest.

“Good afternoon, Slytherins.” The onyx eyes swept the room, lingering for a moment on the impossibly young-looking group of first years clustered around a new fifth year prefect. “It would seem that the start of this term has already brought suspicion to our door, as is typical when it involves the Dark Lord. It is the impression of the rest of Hogwarts that the House of Slytherin supports the evil wizard, but that impression is wrong.” 

Waiting for the muttering to die down, Severus began to roll up his left sleeve slowly. “I have no interest in your personal ideology, or that of your family, but neither I nor the Headmaster will tolerate any actions or statements that indicate support for the wizard who calls himself Lord Voldemort.” A collective shudder ran around the room. “Any student who bears the Dark Mark will be immediately expelled, do I make myself clear?”

Draco Malfoy glared at him, every inch his father’s son. “Isn’t that rather hypocritical of you, Professor Snape? Or does taking Dumbledore’s Golden Boy to your bed exempt you?” The blond teenager sneered, and the muttering grew louder.

In two steps, the Head of Slytherin had his fists wrapped in the neck of Malfoy’s robes, hauling him off his feet. The silence that engulfed the room was all encompassing, and all eyes were on the pair. 

Keeping his voice at a conversational level and tone, Severus spoke. “I no longer bear the Mark, Draco, and have not been a follower of the Dark Lord since prior to your birth; after making the mistake of my life. I decided that kissing the arse of a maniacal half-blood with delusions of grandeur was not to my advantage. As for my relationship with Mister Potter, I would caution you, or anyone else, from making derogatory remarks about my bonded, as you will have me to deal with.”

Dropping the astounded teen into an undignified heap on the stone floor, the Potions master swept the room with a dark glaze, his arms spread in front of him, his unmarked left forearm displayed for all to see. “Should any of you find yourselves in a position where the beliefs of your families are being pressed on you, I urge you to come to me or the Headmaster, as sanctuary is available to anyone, from any House. Likewise, I will not tolerate anyone besmirching the name of Slytherin by acting in a manner that would bring shame on us all. Any questions?”

A timid looking second year, his face a ruddy shade under his straw colored hair, stepped forward. “Professor Snape, is it true then, that you married the Boy Who Lived?”

The obsidian eyes took in the trembling hands and smiled at the boy’s courage. “Yes, Mister Eheulhule, Mister Potter, who is seventeen and of age, and I bonded this summer. Besides,” he leaned down and told the boy in a stage whisper, “the Sorting Hat originally wished to put Harry into Slytherin House, did you know?”

The wide-eyed boy shook his head solemnly, as Severus studiously ignored the gasps that his words cause, a smirk crooking the corner of his mouth. After confirming there were no other personal questions, the Potions master announced Quidditch tryouts for the following weekend, and handed out class schedules before raking his eyes over the assembled students, then swept out of the common room. Pleased with the way his message had been received, he made his way down the corridor to the chambers he shared with Harry, sensing the younger man was starting to wake.

* * *

Ron and Hermione, who had been sent out of the hospital wing the night of the attack when it became apparent their friend would live, were waiting in the Headmaster’s office that evening to see Harry. They had taken the news well when Severus arrived to escort them to the dungeons, much to both of Harry and Severus’ amazement. It seemed that Hermione had read the signs at his birthday party, and cornered the Headmaster, who gave her an idea of what had transpired between the two. Harry had hugged her hard as he realized that she had smoothed the way for Ron to accept their relationship, by mentioning a possible relationship to him repeatedly over the summer. When they had bonded, Albus Dumbledore insistence on absolute secrecy had faltered when Remus requested Ron and Hermione be told before members of the Order, knowing Harry would have wanted that. 

Classes started two mornings later, and Harry flooed up to the Gryffindor common room so that he could walk down to breakfast with his friends. The closely orchestrated plans he and Severus had arranged proved to be unneeded, since their secret had been revealed by Voldemort in front of all the upper years and the members of the DA on the platform in Hogsmeade. Harry was glad that they would not have to go to extremes to hide his sleeping in the dungeons. The Headmaster had requested that Harry not wander about the corridors alone, and that the two of them continue to be discreet, to which both readily agreed. The pair knew they were both targets, and neither was willing to put the other in danger, nor any of the students. 

His arm was still in a sling, and feeling weaker than he’d like, Harry had left his book bag in the dungeons, knowing Severus would bring it in to the classroom. Double Potions was the first class for him and Hermione, and Harry smothered a smile as he ate his breakfast. The members of the DA formed an escort for them as they made their way down to the Potions classroom, his book bag waiting for him at his usual seat at the back of the room, and Harry sat down gratefully, cursing the shakiness he felt. 

Severus Snape strode through the classroom door as he had every lesson for the past six years, robes billowing and heels clicking sharply on the stone floor. With a slam, the door slammed shut, and Harry hid a smile by ducking his head. He sensed amusement as he schooled his face as looked up in time to see the obsidian eyes rake across the small class of seventh years.

“This class comprises the best students that Hogwarts has to offer, and I will be putting your dubious skills to use this year, as you will be responsible for brewing each of the medicinal potions required by Madam Pomfrey. In addition, we will be studying exclusively N.E.W.T potions during the second term, as I fully expect each and every one of you to pass your N.E.W.T exams in June.” 

With a wave of his wand, the instructions for Pepperup Potion appeared on the board, and another wave opened the student ingredients cupboard across the room. “Begin!” 

Severus moved to his desk to check the role, studiously avoiding a look at Harry. Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson were paired at the front of the room, with Millicent Bulstrode and Blaise Zabini behind them, and he could feel the weight of those eyes on him. Three Ravenclaws, Corners, Boots, and Goldstein, along with 2 Hufflepuffs, Bones and Macmillan, joined Harry, Hermione, and Dean Thomas from Gryffindor. A dozen students who were the best of what the wizarding community had to offer, and Severus was proud of the fact that Harry was among them. Remembering the way Harry had cooked while they were at the Dursleys’, the Potions master had added information on the color and texture of each brewing stage.

The bond was quiet, and frowning, the older wizard stood up. He began to stroll between the workstations, glancing at the cauldrons that had just started to simmer the base of purified water and witch hazel. Circling towards the back, he saw that Harry was struggling with the preparation of his ingredients, his left arm still in its sling. As he stepped up to the cauldron, Severus nodded when Hermione glanced at him, remembering how he’d forced Harry and the youngest Weasley boy to prepare Malfoy’s ingredients when he was injured by the hippogriff in their third year. It was better to allow Granger to do it than help himself. 

Harry was relieved when Severus nodded his permission to Hermione, who immediately began to prepare a second set of potion ingredients. As his mate moved on around them toward the Hufflepuffs, something came flying towards him from the direction of the Slytherin table. Harry passed his hand over both his and Hermione’s cauldrons, wandlessly erecting a shielding charm, and with a flick, sent the seed pod back to its originator. His eyes narrowed.

~ _Your snakes are at it already, love, and I’ve put up shields around our cauldrons._ ~

Severus continued his measure pace around the room. ~ _Malfoy’s a bloody idiot! I warned him not to pull his usual pranks!_ ~

~ _Yes, but you have to catch him at it, all I saw was something flying towards me._ ~

Harry heard Severus humph from across the room, and glanced over as he sent a picture of him on his knees with his face buried in the Potions master’s lap. He smiled as he watched the older man stiffen and shake his head, straightening his robes.

~ _Brat!_ ~

The potions lesson passed without further incident, and everyone’s Pepperup Potion turned out well. Harry waited until the others had left, then stopped by Severus’ desk while Hermione waited at the door. The older wizard could feel the ache in the teen’s shoulder, and handed him a small vial of pain relieving potion. Taking it with a grateful smile, Harry downed it quickly, his hand lingering on his mate’s as he handed it back. 

The rest of the day passed without mishap, and by the time Harry Flooed back to their quarters after his last class, he was exhausted. Setting his book bag on the table in the sitting room, he awkwardly removed his robes, grimacing as he worked them over his sore shoulder. When the curse had brushed him, it had slashed muscle and bruised the skin of his shoulder. Not life-threatening, but painful. The shock to his system had depleted his strength, and Harry just needed to rest for a moment. He stripped down and crawled sleepily into bed, knowing Severus would know through their bond where he was. 

Severus Snape sat in the Headmaster’s office with the other Heads of House, discussing the strategy they needed to follow in order to encourage students that Hogwarts was a safe refuge from the influences of Dark Magic. They had already identified several upper classman from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff who seemed to be on edge after the attack on the Hogwarts Express, and Sprout and Flitwick were concerned. A check through the bond had assured him that Harry was sleeping, exhausted from his day.

A searing pain split his forehead, and Severus grabbed at his head, standing so abruptly that his chair toppled over. Albus looked at him startled, but he was already moving towards the Floo.

“A vision, Albus,” he said, grabbing a handful of floo powder. “Check The Burrow, I believe it is under attack,” he said as he stepped into the green flame, going to his mate.

* * *


	20. The Price of Friendship

* * *

Stepping from the fireplace, his head pounding fiercely, Severus found Harry curled in a ball on the floor of the sitting room, apparently having crawled out from the bedroom. Banishing the pool of vomit next to his mate, the Potions master helped the teen onto the couch before summoning two vials of his potion. After swallowing his obediently, Harry looked up, his emerald eyes appearing fever-bright in his pale face. He tightly grasped Severus’ hand as the older wizard sat down on the table in front of the couch, and he took a deep breath.

“Someone was watching The Burrow, I think, and the twins showed up there for some reason this afternoon. The locals helped when the Death Eaters attacked, but they set the house on fire, Sev!”

“I did not get the clear image that you did, love, but it seemed that one of the twins was injured, as was Amos Diggory. Albus should have the Aurors on the way, and he was going to contact Arthur as well.”

“Will they take them to St Mungo’s or bring them here?”

“I am not sure, but I believe Albus will know.”

Harry slowly sat up, rubbing his hands across his face. “Can Ron, Ginny, and Hermione come down here for a bit, Sev, until we know what is going on?”

“Of course,” Severus moved immediately to the fireplace, where he fire-called the Gryffindor common room, knowing Minerva would have gone there as soon as he had left the Headmaster’s office.

Moments later, the two youngest Weasley children and Hermione Granger were stepping out of the fireplace. All three were pale and drawn, and the girls immediately joined Harry on the couch, throwing their arms around him. Ron remained standing for a moment before dropping into the armchair opposite Severus. Hermione had received her appointment as Head Girl that evening when the announcement was made at dinner. She had accepted the honor and shared the Head Student duties with Terry Boot of Ravenclaw. 

“McGonagall said there was an attack at the Burrow, but didn’t have any other information. No one is supposed to be there, mate, why would anyone attack it?” Ron asked. 

“The twins went to collect something from the house, Ron,” Harry said quietly, his hands clenched in front of him.

Severus interjected, knowing how distressed his mate was. “We are not certain as to why they were there, Ronald. Suffice it to say that Harry had a vision of the attack.”

Ginny stiffened beside Harry, but did not pull away. He knew she was remembering the last time one of his visions had involved a Weasley. Slowly, he felt her relax against his side, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. The wait seemed eternal; to keep them occupied, Severus summoned a house-elf to request a tea tray. Hermione moved from the couch to slide onto Ron’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his neck. Severus gave in to the need to be near his mate, and moved to sit beside Harry after passing out teacups. The younger wizard immediately leaned into him, grasping one hand, his other remaining wrapped around Ginny. Teacups and biscuits sat on the table, untouched. Hermione stroked Ron’s hair with one hand, unconsciously mimicking the Potions master’s movements as he carded his hand through Harry’s. Ginny leaned heavily against both of them.

“Professor…” Hermione was at a loss as to what to call her best friend’s soul-mate.

“You may address me as Severus in private, all of you, as you are Harry closest friends, Hermione.” 

“Severus, when do you think someone will-”

The fire flared green and all eyes turned to watch Albus Dumbledore step out on to the rug. His clear blue eyes were weary, but a smile graced his lips as he took in the occupants of the room.

“Fred is going to be just fine,” he told them without preamble.

All of the teenagers sagged with relief, and Ginny buried her face in Harry’s chest, bursting into tears. Severus seemed unaware that he had wrapped his arms around both teenagers. Ron buried his face in Hermione’s bushy brown hair.

“Fred was hit with several hexes at once, but will be able to come home in just a day or two. Arthur, Molly, and George are with him now, and Bill headed to The Burrow as soon as the Aurors on scene gave him the approval. The fire was extinguished fairly quickly and there should be minimal damage. Once the investigation is complete and the Ministry releases the house, we will put it under the Fidelius Charm.”

“What happened, Albus?”

The Headmaster lowered himself into Severus’ dark green leather chair, helping himself to one of the cups of tea on the table. “George said they Apparated to The Burrow from Diagon Alley after closing their premise for the evening, to get an old trunk out of their room. They apparently surprised a small group of Death Eaters who had been sent by Lord Voldemort to find out if anyone was still living at the house. The Aurors took Antonin Dolohov into custody; George stunned him during their duel, at about the time Amos Diggory and his people showed up.”

“Is Mister Diggory all right, Professor?” Harry asked anxiously.

The aged wizard nodded as he swallowed. “Yes, already patched up and sent home.”

“Dolohov,” Hermione repeated, her brow furrowed in thought. “He was one of the Death Eaters that escaped from Azkaban again, wasn’t he??”

“Yes, Hermione,” Dumbledore acknowledged. “In the first mass break out during your fifth year here, and then with Lucius Malfoy after the Department of Mysteries arrests.”

“He was one of the Death Eaters who killed our uncles, Fabian and Gideon Prewett,” Ginny said softly, raising her head to look at her brother across the table, sniffling.

Without thinking, Harry held out his hand and summoned a tissue from the bathroom, pressing it into the young witch’s hand. He was so busy comforting the youngest Weasley that he did not catch the look that Ron and Hermione exchanged. Severus, however, did see it.

~ _You just did that wandlessly, love_.~ 

Harry blinked and turned to meet the obsidian eyes. ~ _I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, Sev_.~

“I must ask you all to keep whatever you witness Harry doing to yourselves,” Albus Dumbledore’s voice was quiet, but intent. “He and Severus have spent the summer training and honing his magical abilities, and he has become quite gifted at wandless magic.”

Hermione glanced at Harry before addressing the Headmaster. “Ron and I both noticed the wandless magic, as well as a sharp increase in Harry’s magical power, during the duel at the station in Hogsmeade, sir, but I don’t think that Voldemort did.”

“I’m sorry, I have been trying so hard to not use it,” muttered Harry.

The fire flared green again, and Molly Weasley stepped through, looking pale and wan. Her children were on their feet instantly, and threw their arms around her. She pulled them to her tightly, kissing them repeatedly. Hermione moved to sit beside Harry, feeling, as he did, that they were intruding on a family moment. Molly herself dispelled that notion as she stepped away from her children and moved to the couch. Pulling first Hermione and then Harry into her arms, she kissed them as well, and to the surprise of them all, pulled the now-standing Potions master into a tight embrace. Severus stiffened for a moment before relaxing, as Harry chided him gently through the bond.

“Everything is fine now, and the healer says Fred may return home tomorrow. We will be taking him to Grimmauld Place to recuperate, and George is going to keep the shop open, with help from Tonks and Alastor,” Molly told them as she sank into one of the leather chairs.

They all knew that the backroom of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes at ninety-three, Diagon Alley, had become an important meeting place for the members of the Order of the Phoenix. When the twins had joined the Order that summer, the backroom had been reinforced with many protective fields and wards, and it was now almost as secure as Grimmauld Place. The twins had bought the building after their first year in business, and the workroom had been made unplottable, in addition to being warded by the Headmaster. Fred and George had made Harry a full partner, and they were continually adding money to his Gringotts vault, much to his chagrin. 

Harry handed Mrs. Weasley a re-warmed cup of tea and moved back to the couch, only to be settled onto Severus’ lap. Ginny sat beside them, and Hermione nestled into Ron’s lap on the other side of her. All eyes were on Molly as she sipped deeply from the cup, before setting it back down. 

“I can not believe it was Dolohov who led the attack, after all these years,” her voice trailed off, her eyes over-bright.

“Tell me, Molly; were Amos and the others able to identify any of the other Death Eaters?” Albus Dumbledore spoke for the first time since the witch had arrived.

“Amos is sure one of the others was Parkinson, and there was tall man with silver-blond hair that sounds suspiciously like Lucius Malfoy to me!” Missus Weasley spat out, her nostrils flaring and eyes narrowing in anger. “If that evil bastard wants to target us, he’ll need more than that pompous prat Malfoy to do it!”

“Target you?” Harry asked, a sinking sensation in his stomach, his back stiffening. “What do you mean by that, Missus Weasley? Why is Voldemort targeting your family?” There was really no need for her to answer, Harry knew he was the reason they were all in danger.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Harry dear, I am just upset. Don’t listen to anything I said, I was just prattling on,” Molly said, not meeting his eyes, her smile forced.

“Of course, I understand,” Harry replied woodenly.

The next twenty minutes were among the longest of his life, as Harry sat mutely. Voldemort was targeting the people he cared about, he had known this since the attack on Privet Drive, but this attack brought it home to him viciously. Vaguely, he was aware of Severus holding him tightly across his chest, a hand carding through his hair. A wave of calm settled over him, and Harry took a deep breath, standing up with everyone else to say goodbye to the Weasley matriarch. Harry accepted her hug, and watched as she disappeared into the fire, followed by Ron, Hermione, and Ginny who headed back to the Gryffindor tower. 

“Harry,” the Headmaster said quietly, “worrying overmuch will not help you or anyone else. We have gone over this before. The Weasley family has always been targeted because of their open association with the Light. Voldemort has targeted known Order members, as well as anyone close to you.”

The emerald eyes flared as they bore into the clear blue. “Is it possible to have Mister and Missus Granger moved into Grimmauld Place, Professor? You can use any of the gold in my vault to support and protect them, as well as the Weasleys. How about Neville’s grandmother, sir, the Death Eaters have always been interested in the Longbottom family?”

Dumbledore nodded his head, watching as Harry stood at arms’ length from Severus, as if taking the blame for the danger squarely on his own shoulders.

“Yes, dear boy, the Grangers are already at Grimmauld Place, they were relocated shortly after the attack on Privet Drive. Charlie believes he is safe at the dragon refuge, but Bill has also moved in to the London house as well. Missus Longbottom agreed to allow us to add extra protections on her residence after your fifth year, when Bellatrix Lestrange was so interested in Neville, but she refuses to leave her home.”

Harry had the grace to look ashamed, as a supportive arm slid around his waist. “I’m sorry, Professor, I should have realized that you would have everything taken care of, it’s just that I hate to feel that others are in danger because of me.”

“No need to apologize, Harry, had I known it was worrying you, I would have let you know sooner, and put your mind at ease. I know it weighs heavily on you.” The Headmaster patted his arm. “Goodnight, my boys.”

As Dumbledore departed, Severus turned the younger man in his arms, and pulled him flush against him. Harry felt stiff for a moment, before he relaxed and allowed the taller wizard to comfort him. 

~ _You know how much I hate feeling like just knowing me can get someone killed, Sev._ ~

Severus pulled him down on the couch and grasped his hands, long slender fingers idly twisting his mate’s bonding ring, which flared golden at their combined magic. As much as he loved the young man, he was at a loss as to how to comfort him. Harry had never asked for any of this, never asked for a prophecy made before his birth to control his life and his destiny. A sudden thought occurred to him.

“Harry, what would your godfather have said to your parents if they told him just being around them might target him for death, so he was to stay away.”

Harry blinked at him, feeling no animosity through their bond, only sincerity and the warm flow of love. Sirius was not a subject they had ever discussed; it had been too painful for Harry, and when he was finally able to think of Sirius without suffocating from his grief, he hadn’t wanted to reopen any old wounds of Severus’. When Harry had gone back at the start of sixth year and apologized for the way their Occlumency lessons had ended, he had worked through the hate he felt towards the Potions master. He had never been able to thank Severus for his actions that night, overshadowed as he was by the gaping chasm inside him at the time, but he had at least developed a grudging respect for the man, and learned to trust him. 

“Honestly, Sev, I think Sirius would have thrown a fit,” Harry said softly, a soft smile flitting across his lips. 

“At the very least,” the Slytherin confirmed with a smirk. “And then they would have started hexing each other like true Gryffindors.” 

“Severus!” Harry laughed, the mental image of those two teenagers dueling.

“Just reminding you what might happen should you take it into your head to tell Granger and Weasley they must stay away for their own good.”

Harry cringed at being on the receiving end of Hermione’s temper, or Ginny’s for that matter. The smirk on his mate’s face deepened as he conceded the point and allowed the older man to tug him into his lap. Settling into the warmth and surrounded by love, Harry acknowledged what Severus was trying to get him to realize, that his friends where there because they chose to be, despite the danger. The same way they had tied themselves to each other, despite the risk to both of them, Harry thought, drawing Severus’ hand to his lips, kissing the ring on his finger. 

Summoning a tray of sandwiches from the kitchens, the two men changed into comfortable clothes and began doing homework and grading. Working in companionable silence, the couple made quick work of their chores, eating as they went. Severus graded the N.E.W.T class potions homework, setting Harry’s aside for the Headmaster, before starting on the efforts of a third year Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw class. Harry was finishing up his Charms essay when he became aware of a throbbing pain at his temple. He put a hand up to rub it, only to discover that it was radiated pain coming through the bond. Silently, he summoned a vial of pain potion from the bathroom cabinet as he moved to the small black lacquer cabinet near the bookcase, and poured a small glass of single malt scotch, neat.

Moving back to the small table, he handed the potion to his lover, and set the scotch near his hand. Pressing a kiss into the greasy hair, Harry spared a moment to be glad the potion Severus used to coat his hair against the harmful potions fumes at least smelled good, with a trace of sandalwood and cinnamon. Dropping his hands onto the man’s shoulders, he began to knead the tight muscles there, while the Potions Master continued to mark the assignments. When Harry felt the headache ease, he kissed the older wizard’s cheek and headed into the bathroom to shower.

Harry was stretched out in bed, burrowed under the blankets, when Severus joined him. When Severus opened his arms, the younger wizard moved into them immediately, still feeling emotionally bruised from the attack on the Weasley twins. The older man stroked his skin softly, driving all sad and depressed thoughts from Harry’s mind, as his lips followed his fingers. Slowly and thoroughly, Severus made love to his soul-mate, telling him without words just how precious he was.

* * *

Sitting in Transfiguration the next afternoon, Harry was taking notes on Professor McGonagall’s lecture on the Animagus transformation when he suddenly felt like his magic was being sucked out of him in a rapid burst, and his bonding ring leapt as if electrified. On unsteady legs, he stood and ran from the room, heading towards the dungeons. At some point, Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey joined him, and they threw open the door of the Potions classroom to find the utter devastation of all the workstations and cauldrons. In the front corner of the room, the Potions master’s desk and blackboard were fine, along with every one of the fourth year Gryffindor and Slytherin students. 

Looking around frantically, Harry saw an enraged and rumpled Severus stand up from behind his desk, a Slytherin student hoisted in his hand by the neck of his robes. 

“It would seem,” he spat out between clenched teeth. “That either Mister Warrington has just become the worse potions student to ever darken my doors, or he just attempted to kill the entire class with his noxious potion!”

“Professor Snape, how did you manage to save the students?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

Severus looked at them all as if they were nutters. “Simple summoning and shielding charms…” His eyes swept the room, taking in the damage, before seeing Harry for the first time. 

“Not quite as simple as you thought, dear boy,” the Headmaster told him, with a significant look at Harry.

“You were brilliant, sir!” A squeaky voice told them, and Harry glanced down to see Dennis Creevey looking at his mate with the same enraptured look he usually reserved for Harry. 

The feared Potions master’s snarling retort was lost in the roar of applause from the shaken students, but Harry didn’t miss the twin spots of color that bloomed on Severus’ cheeks over the compliment.

* * *


	21. Nott's Blunder

* * *

The damage done to the Potions classroom was repaired with a few waves of the Headmaster’s wand, but the intent of the young man was still in question. Warrington had been sullen and unremorseful when questioned, leading Professor Dumbledore and Severus both to believe that his had been a deliberate act. Escorting the surly Slytherin from the room, the Potions master sent his class to the library with an essay assignment. Harry trailed behind, knowing that his mate was upset over what had happened.

~ _Severus, is there anything I can do to help?_ ~

~ _No, love, I don’t think so. I just wish the Slytherins had taken my warning seriously, as the Dark Lord won’t be happy that his young operative has been caught and expelled, with no losses on our side._ ~

~ _So he did mean to hurt you._ ~

~ _Yes, Legilimency is acceptable in these circumstances, so I used it. He definitely meant to harm me, and he didn’t care if any students were injured or killed._ ~

Harry snorted. ~ _Like I’m worried about the legalities here, the git could have hurt a lot of people!_ ~

A smile flitted through the bond. ~ _Go back to class, brat, and I will see you after you get done helping the would-be players at Quidditch practice. Be careful._ ~

~ _Yes, mum._ ~

* * *

The next few weeks passed in a haze of normalcy that unnerved Harry. The attacks at summer’s end had come swiftly, one after the other, and he felt he had to be on his guard every moment. Warrington had been expelled from Hogwarts, and nothing was heard of him in the ensuing weeks. Now, on Friday afternoon the third week of term, Harry was exhausted. His sleep had been broken at best, his dreams chaotic, and he knew that Severus was becoming concerned about his lack of restful sleep; Harry was just thankful that the vague images of death and destruction he was seeing had not bled through to his mate, thanks to his Occlumency training. It was bad enough that one of them was going through this, there was no need for both of them to suffer. Harry knew he had been too quiet of late, too subdued, but the older wizard had not pushed for an explanation.

Harry made his way from the library, where Hermione and Ron were still studying, down the stairs towards the Potions classroom. He was deep in thought when he passed a small side corridor near the entrance to the Slytherin common room. The hair stood up on the back of his neck just as a hand reached out and yanked him into the darkness. He was spun around and slammed into the stone wall face first, his cheek making hard contact with a patch of mortar.

“Where is your little entourage, Potter? Such a delicious target should have his arse covered, instead of roaming around on his own.” The rough voice was malevolent as it sneered in his ear, and a hard body pressed him tighter against the wall.

Harry relaxed in the painful grip, refusing to rise to the bait by struggling. The taller, thinner person snarled, blowing foul breath into his face as his wand arm was wrenched behind him. _Nott_ , he thought with a grimace. He really wasn’t in the mood to play these games. The hand on his arm tightened, and Harry could feel the Slytherin grind his pelvis into his rear.

“Maybe I should see just what it is that Snape likes so much, huh? How would you like that, Potter?”

The idiot was too busy rubbing himself against Harry to notice that he had managed to wriggle his left hand out from between his stomach and the wall. With a flick of his fingers, Harry cast a Petrificus Totalus, and stepped away as Theodore Nott crashed to the floor. 

~ _Harry!_ ~

“I’m down the little hallway, Sev…Professor,” he called out to his mate, knowing the older man was now close by. 

With another whisper from Harry, the hapless seventh year was bound with magical ropes. His eyes moved frantically between Harry and the rapidly approaching Slytherin Head of House, opening wide in fear as they read the rage in Severus’ face. The Potions master’s scowl deepened as he took in the bloody scrape on Harry’s face and his robes’ disarray. In the process of straightening his clothing, he wasn’t surprised when Severus batted his hands away and smoothed his robes into place.

“Are you all right?” came a low growl.

“Yes,” Harry took a second to lean into the hand that cupped the side of his face. “He grabbed me and threw me against the wall, then said some foul things about us before I took care of the problem.”

Emerald eyes met obsidian, and Harry opened his mind to allow Severus to view the memory. After reviewing the scene, his lover nodded once and turned his attention to Harry’s attacker. A brusque Mobilicorpus had Nott floating in front them to the Headmaster’s office, where Madam Pomfrey met them. She clicked her tongue in exasperation over Harry’s scraped check, but healed it with a minimum of fuss. After a brief but vocal conference, the tall, thin teenager was turned over to Argus Filch, with whom he would serve several months of detention as punishment for his assault on Harry. 

“I still don’t agree with letting him stay, Harry,” the Potions master said as he slowly relaxed, a cup of hot tea steaming in his hand.

Harry blew across the hot surface of his tea. His head was beginning to throb as the adrenaline faded from his system, and he knew his arm and shoulder were probably bruised as well. 

“What good would it have done to expel him, Severus? Here, we can at least keep an eye on him, and maybe show him that his ideals are wrong,” Harry argued, shooting the older wizard a glance. “Besides, Voldemort will punish him severely when he learns what happened, and Nott knows that. We can only hope that it will be enough to keep him from returning to the bastard.”

“That would certainly send a message to the other would-be Death Eaters among the students,” Dumbledore said thoughtfully, observing them over the top of his half-moon spectacles. “It could also put him in danger from them.”

“He chose his path, Albus.” There was no sympathy in the onyx eyes.

“He did indeed, Severus.”

 

The couple decided to take their dinner in their rooms, rather than endure the crowds and speculation of the Great Hall. Severus insisted on checking over the younger man as soon as they arrived, and had Harry stripped to the waist when a knock sounded. Moving to the door, Severus was not surprised to see Granger and Weasley standing nervously on the other side. Motioning them in, Severus turned back to see Harry, bare-chested, examining the pattern of bruises that littered his forearm. Ron Weasley moved to sit on the couch, but the witch headed straight to Harry and threw her arms around him.

“Oh, Harry, I told you not to leave without us!”

A wave of jealousy surged through the Potions master as he watched the chit run her hands over the faint blue markings on Harry’s chest. Retrieving the bottle of healing cream, Severus stepped up behind his lover and began to spread the cream over his shoulder. Surprisingly, the young witch was not intimidated by his possessive manner, and plucked the bottle out of his hand. 

“Please remind Harry, Severus, that he is not supposed to wander the hallways alone,” Hermione said briskly. She poured a small amount of lotion into her hand and began to spread it along Harry’s right arm.

With a long-suffering sigh, Harry allowed her to finish applying the lotion to his arm before gently pulling away and leaning back into Severus. The older wizard’s realized, much to his chagrin, that his mate was feeling his emotions through their bond. He turned Harry around and smoothed the lotion over the teenager’s chest, then up his neck, before using a fingertip to gently apply it to Harry’s battered check. The emerald eyes that met his were filled with mirth and Severus could feel the corners of his mouth twitch as he stepped back.

“I believe I shall find a leash for him, Hermione, so that we can keep track of him.”

Harry sputtered at the thought. “They were the ones who were too busy snogging in the library to hear me say I was leaving!”

Severus snorted. “As if you are not oblivious when we are snogging!”

A becoming red stained his lover’s cheeks and he heard Weasley choke behind him. With a wicked gleam in his eye, Severus enfolded the younger man to his chest and leaned down to capture the Gryffindor’s lips. He wasn’t certain who melted into whom, but the contact caused a bubble of relief to burst over both of them.

A discreet cough pulled them back to reality, and Harry found himself pressed against the hard length of his mate. Resting his chin on Severus’ shoulder, he smirked at Ron’s uncertain smile as Hermione laughed at both of them. His best friend was slowly accepting the reality of the Potions master as his bonded lover, with his girlfriend’s help, no doubt. For all her intelligence and logic, the witch was an incurable romantic.

“Come on, Ron, this appears to be a party for two,” Hermione laughed as she tugged on her boyfriend’s hand.

Shivering at the sensation of magical tingles radiating from the warm hands slowly stroking over his bare back, Harry turned his head to press a kiss into the hollow of Severus’ neck before stepping away. He moved to wrap his arms around Hermione, kissing her cheek, and she rubbed a hand over his back.

“Are you still going to your birthday dinner?”

“Yes!” Ron piped up forcefully as he tugged on his girlfriend’s hand. “As soon as I can get her away from the half-naked bloke she is currently wrapped around!”

Laughing, Harry walked them to the door, admiring the merry twinkle of the diamond earrings he and Severus had given the witch that morning as her birthday gift. The more precious gift to his two closest friends lay under an invisibility charm beneath their robes: solid platinum pendants in the shape of a lightning bolt. They were charmed and spelled as emergency portkeys that would transport their wearers immediately to the hospital wing if they were to become injured or endangered. It had been the Potions master’s idea, and he had hoped that they would impart a measure of reassurance to his young love. Ginny and Molly Weasley has been gifted with similar pendants.

Turning back into the room, Harry found Severus had shed his outer robes, and moved back into his arms.

“Dinner?”

Harry smiled against the warm column of throat he had buried his face in. “Dobby is turning the Room of Requirement into a little French café for her birthday dinner.” His smile widened. “Ron is going to propose tonight.”

“Ah.”

A hand slowly stroked down his back, making magic tingling along his skin, and an arm around his waist anchored him against his mate. Several minutes passed as they simply stood, soaking in each other's warmth. The moving hand slid up into the hair at the back of Harry’s head and urged his face up. The onyx eyes were heavy-lidded as they looked into his.

“Are you hungry?” The silky voice had a husky edge.

“Yesssss,” he deliberately dragged the word out into an imitation of Parseltongue, and watched the dark eyes flame.

With a groan, a hot mouth covered Harry’s, devouring him. Harry slid his hands up front of the Potions master’s soft shirt, fingers deftly slipping the buttons through their holes and moving the fabric aside to bare the warm, satiny skin underneath. Harry caressed the lean lines of muscle, carding his fingers gently through the patch of wiry hair in the center of the well-defined chest, then strayed to circle the flat, tawny nipples. Flicking each of the little nubs with a fingernail earned him another groan. The arm around his waist slipped down, and a large hand cupped a firm cheek; when he was pressed against a familiar hardness, it was Harry’s turn to wrench his mouth away and moan.

Harry wasn’t sure who moved first or how they made it to the bedroom, but soon he was standing in front of the bed, naked. Severus sat on the edge of the duvet and pulled Harry forward slowly, his warm lips engulfing Harry’s throbbing erection. Harry’s knees threatened to buckle, and the only thing that held him upright was one hand anchoring his hips. The fingertips of Severus’ other hand ghosted across the sensitive skin of his scrotum, stroking lightly. Wet heat filled his senses, and then a slick finger penetrated him, sending magic tingling along his nerve endings. Harry wove his fingers into his mate’s long, black hair and let the pleasure push him over the edge. 

Grabbing a pillow to shove under his young mate’s hips, Severus tugged him forward onto the bed. He summoned oil and used it to coat his hands and to gently prepare Harry before he stroking oil over his own jutting cock. Not sure whether it was him or the younger man who groaned in pleasure, Severus eased himself into the welcoming heat of his lover. After a pause to let the sensations settle, he began to move, angling his thrusts in order to stroke over the sweet spot, sending jolts of pleasure spinning through both of them. Harry rocked back and forth, meeting his every thrust, and as Severus watched he began to stroke his renewed erection. The wanton sight of his love’s head flung back, one hand stroking his own cock, the other fisted in the silk sheets, was too much. Severus slammed home, emptying himself into the heat just as Harry came for the second time.

When his pulse slowed, Severus whispered a cleansing charm and gathered the sleepy teenager in his arms, ready to settle down for a nap. There was no doubt in Harry’s mind that they wouldn’t have long before they were interrupted, either by an enthralled Weasley with the grand news that Hermione said ‘yes’, or by the towering rage of the Dark Lord, who would no doubt learn of Nott’s failure shortly. 

~ _I love you, Sev._ ~ Harry's voice was sleepy and satisfied, even mentally.

Pressing a kiss to Harry’s warm temple, he snorted. “I love you too, my Harry.”

Several hours later, Harry and Severus were back in their sitting room, toasting the newly engaged couple. Severus had smirked at his mate, laughing at his sarcastic comments about his Divination skills. Ron nervously asked Harry to be his best man, sighing in relief when he readily agreed. When Ron and Hermione finally returned to the Gryffindor common room, Dobby brought them a late dinner of sandwiches and pudding, and then the couple tumbled back into bed for a good night’s sleep. Quidditch tryouts were scheduled for the next morning, and Severus was overseeing both the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams, along with Minerva and Rolanda Hooch. They slept peacefully wrapped in each other's arms.

* * *

The next morning Theodore Nott was gone; somehow he had disappeared from the Slytherin dormitories, and it was unknown whether he had been taken or left of his own volition. While no one could Apparate within Hogwarts, there were alternate means of travel available within the school grounds. A few of the fireplaces were hooked to the Floo network, and illegal portkeys were difficult to detect until they were activated. Severus was furious and worried, Harry knew; although the Potions master did not discuss the Slytherin’s disappearance, the bond allowed Harry access to the backflow of the older wizard’s emotion. 

That night, Nott was tortured, raped, and killed for failing in his mission to kidnap Harry. The Dark Lord was in a towering rage that the teenager, rather than using the portkey charmed into a small silver snake ring, had taken the time to taunt and rub himself against the Boy Who Lived. Despite Harry’s best efforts to shield his mind, both he and Severus were unwitting witnesses to Voldemort’s rage.

* * *


	22. Quidditch Demented.

* * *

As the warm September days faded into the chill of October, things settled into a normal pattern of taking or teaching classes and doing or grading homework. The vague dreams Harry had been having continued, but after the death of Theodore Nott, Harry had confessed to Severus what was happening. They had begun to work on a mutual Occlumency block, as well as making progress on a modified Dreamless Sleep Potion that lacked the more addictive ingredients. It was unlikely that they would ever be able to completely block out the visions or the flare of Voldemort’s emotion, but they were successful enough to allow sleep. 

The first Quidditch match of the year was the traditional match of Gryffindor and Slytherin, which had led to good-natured partisan banter between the bond mates. Harry trained hard; his growth spurt had made him clumsy on his Firebolt as his center of balanced had changed. Ron, the quintessential captain, pushed the team hard during practice, wanting nothing more than to take the Quidditch cup once again. He was relentless and they were often out on the pitch until twilight, which prompted reminders from both Professor McGonagall and Severus about being back in the castle before dark. 

The trio’s evenings were divided between the library and the dungeon sitting room Harry shared with the Potions master. Severus moved quietly through the room when they were studying, usually passing from his office into his personal lab. He would lean down for a kiss as he passed, which Harry happily tilted his head up to receive. It took Ron some time to become comfortable with the open affection, and Severus often regarded the Gryffindor’s reddened cheeks with the sarcastic arching of a single eyebrow.

The weather turned cold three days before the Quidditch match, and a chilly mist fell non-stop. Thoroughly chilled after the final Gryffindor practice, Harry dragged himself down to the dungeon quarters he shared with Severus, waving off Neville and Ginny, who had escorted him in from the practice pitch. Seeing no sign of Severus, Harry shedded his soggy practice robes in a pile on the flag-stone floor just inside the door, and padded naked towards the bathroom. Dinner should have started by now, but Harry didn’t detect any worry through the bond.

Stepping through the bathroom door, Harry gasped at the sight of a hundred small candles floating in the air of the spacious room, bathing it in soft golden light. The warm air was sweet with a heady combination of steamy sandalwood and vanilla. 

“You are letting in cold air, my brat. Close the door and join me.”

The silky purr came from the bathtub, almost as large as the one in the Prefects bathroom, where Harry could see Severus immersed to his neck in a layer of foam. With a groan of pleasure, the younger man eased himself into the steamy water, the warmth sending prickles of feeling along his chilled flesh. The older wizard turned him around and arranged him so that Harry sat in his lap, his back to Severus’ chest. 

“Practice a bit rough this evening, love?” the rich, smooth voice whispered in his ear. Strong hands began to wash him with soothing strokes.

“You have no idea what Ron is like. If I didn’t know better, I would think he was channeling his mother!”

Leaning back with a sigh, the younger man gave himself up to the wonderful ministrations of his lover. Slender fingers stroked his chest, tracking over the flat nipples and plucking at the nibs. The erection that had sprung to life as he stepped into the tub went rock hard at the sensation, and the hand moved down slowly, rubbing circles along his abdomen. Seating himself firmly back against his Slytherin, Harry made sure the hard cock he found behind him was firmly nestled between his arse cheeks. One long-fingered hand slipped over his belly and slid between his legs to cup his balls. Warm lips nipped at his earlobe, and Harry arched his neck back until his head lay on Severus’ shoulder, giving the man the slender line of his throat to feast on.

The hand gently fondling his balls slid up and ghosted over his throbbing erection to anchor his stomach, and the other hand slid between them. A slick finger breeched him, and Harry moaned at the sensation. Shifting a little to the side, he wrapped a hand around the back of his mate’s head and brought it down so that he could capture the thin lips. His tongue mimicked the actions of the fingers that slid in and out of him, until one brushed against that sweet spot. The jolt of sensation it caused had him pulling his mouth away to moan. Harry started to protest when he felt the fingers withdraw, and he lifted himself to move closer, only to pause when the blunt tip of Severus’ cock brushed against his entrance. He moved, impaling himself slowly as the tall wizard hissed, feeling Harry slide further down. The older man’s hands moved to clasp Harry’s hips as he began to rock back and forth.

The warmth of the water and the intense sensations of their coupling quickly brought both men to the edge, and Harry hovered there as he rocked harder. A hand wrapped around his neglected cock, thumb sweeping over the throbbing tip.

“Come for me, Harry.”

The breathy words whispered in his ear sent him over the brink, and he felt the rush of warmth flood through him as Severus reached his climax. He slumped bonelessly against his lover, cradled against a firm chest, until his heart stopped racing. Hands softly stroked him as he relaxed.

“Let us get out before you slide under the water, love. Weasley would hex me into next week if I allowed you to drown.”

Dinner was a quiet meal of hearty stew and crusty bread, and then the couple relaxed together in bed. Severus read through a technical journal, his fingers carding gently through the raven hair of the head resting on his chest. Harry let the stroking fingers relax him and focused on their soothing rhythm as he meditated. A vague feeling of uneasiness had started to grow in the back of his mind, and Harry worked to block it. Instinct told him that something was going to happen, and soon. Feeling his mate’s emotions through their bond, the Potions master summoned a vial of the sleeping potion they had created, each of them swallowing half of the vial, before settling in.

The morning dawned steely gray and cold, and the mist eventually turned to outright rain. Feeling oddly subdued, Harry and Severus walked to the Great Hall for breakfast; there they separated, and the younger man joined his team mates at the Gryffindor table while the Potions master walked to the Head Table and sat down. The rest of the students seemed to have picked up on the gloomy mood that hovered over the pair.

The wind had risen by the time the match started, making Harry thankful once again for the contact lenses he had gotten over the summer. As he changed into his Quidditch robes, Harry grew increasingly apprehensive, and his feeling of depression became stronger as he took to the air with his team mates. As he flew high over the field, black clouds began to form on the horizon, and the temperature dropped even more. Muttering a warming charm over himself, he was surprised when it did not seem to work, and he continued to circle the pitch in increasingly tighter circles.

Intense pain flared in Harry’s head for a second, and his scar throbbed. It was gone as soon as it had started, but the pain had been enough to give him a churning stomach and an instant headache. The emotion behind the flash had been pure glee, and Harry slowed, sitting back on the Firebolt. Rubbing at his scar, his eyes wandered to the horizon, where the black clouds had begun to move towards them over the lake. The temperature was dropping steadily, and a feeling of despair filled him before something clicked in his mind.

~ _Severus! It’s Dementors! There are hundreds of them coming in over the lake! I can see them now as a large black cloud. That is why Voldemort is so happy; it is what he was trying to hide from us_!~

He could barely see the tall, black-clad figure rise and survey the stands before leaning down to speak to Albus Dumbledore. The Headmaster sent a signal into the air, and Madam Hooch blew her whistle to stop the play. 

~ _Harry! Head towards the stands, you are too far out!_ ~

Harry pivoted on his broom and dove toward his mate, shivering at the tendrils of incredible cold racing up his spine. Flapping black appeared in his peripheral vision as he directed his broom into a high speed dive, feeling the first pulls of the Dementor alongside him. His wand was in his hand as he began to hear his mother screaming, begging for his life.

“Bow to me, Harry…”

“If you are ready, Potter, its time to go.”

The sound of Severus’ rejection was almost more than he could bare, but still Harry tried to concentrate.

“ _Expecto Patronum_!”

A feeble silvery mist sputtered out of the end of his wand, and Harry could feel the tears freezing on his face. He was now surrounded by the black-hooded demons.

~ _I love you, Harry!_ ~

The warmth of his mate flooded the bond and Harry grasped that love strongly, extending his wand upward.

“ _EXPECTO PATRONUM_!”

Severus Snape added his Patronus to the others flying towards the approaching Dementors; the silver panther joined a phoenix, an otter, a tabby cat, and something hairy that he could not identify. He was surprised at the number of students able to produce such a difficult charm, until he remembered Harry’s DA teachings. Harry! He had sent words of love when he felt the younger man at his limits, and looked up now to see his mate bathed in a pulse of golden light; as he watched, a huge silver stag erupted from the end of Harry’s wand, pushing back the huge crowd of Dementors. 

As quickly as the attack had started, it was over, the clouds of black disappearing over the horizon, and the sun coming out for the first time in days. A number of students were unconscious, most of them younger children that had at least made it to the relative protection provided by underside of the stands. The teachers and older students swarmed down there, checking and tending to the injured. Severus tried to track Harry’s flight, only to lose sight of him behind the center Gryffindor goal post. A brief burst of pain through the bond sent him running to that end of the pitch.

Racing to the far side, the Potions master saw Albus Dumbledore levitating an unconscious Harry, still gripping his Firebolt with his knees, gently to the ground. Sinking to the ground next to his mate, Severus worked to loosen the death grip Harry had on the broomstick, his wand still clasped tightly in his right hand. The younger man appeared to be uninjured, but had not regained consciousness by the time Severus had him disentangled.

“Professor Snape!” A second year Hufflepuff ran up, terror etched into her face. “I saw a bludger hit Harry when he was trying to land, sir!”

A bludger would explain the burst of pain the Slytherin had felt before his mate had lost consciousness. With a nod of acknowledgement and murmured thanks, Severus levitated Harry and made his way back towards the castle, leaving Albus and Minerva to direct the efforts on the pitch. They had been lucky that Harry was able to forewarn them of the approaching danger. As a result, there were only a few severe injuries, mainly from younger students falling when the Dementors affected them.

Madam Pomfrey was dealing with an over-run hospital wing, ruthlessly triaging patients as they came in, with the unconscious taking priority. Those students with bumps, bruises, and simple broken bones were directed to benches along one wall, while the more seriously injured were unceremoniously stripped, examined, and sorted into beds. When Severus and Harry approached, she immediately abandoned the patient she was aiding and hustled the pair to a bed in the corner. Wincing at what he knew his lover’s reaction would be to the invasion of his privacy, Severus watched as the teenager’s wet, muddy Quidditch robes vanished with a flick of the mediwitch’s wand. An ugly purpling bruise ran from knee to hip along his right thigh, giving proof to where the bludger had struck him during in his downward descent. The unusual pattern of bruises that littered the left side of his chest surprised them both. 

As the nurse continued her exam, Harry’s eyes fluttered open, and Severus grasped his hand tightly. A bar of chocolate appeared over his shoulder, and he took it with his free hand, setting it on the bed in order to break a chunk off one-handedly. The green eyes were dazed and unfocused as Severus took a small piece of the sweet and hand-fed it to his mate.

“Eat that, love, and we will be able to get you out of here faster.”

The mediwitch snorted, still running her diagnostic wand over the teen’s chest. “It almost looks like those demons were trying to suck out your heart, Harry, as well as your soul.” 

Awareness was slowly returning to the emerald eyes as the Potions master continued to feed him chocolate. Probing Harry’s true feelings through their bond, Severus was not surprised to feel the swirl of confusion and conflicting emotions in his mate.

~ _It is all right, love, you are safe now,_ ~ Severus tried to reassure him.

~ _I know, Sev, it’s just that they were different, somehow. Smarter or something…_ ~

~ _The Dementors you mean?_ ~

~ _Yes, Madam Pomfrey is right, they were going after hearts as well as souls. I could feel it._ ~ 

Harry shivered, and Severus conjured a wool blanket to cover him with.

“You may take him down to your quarters, Severus. Give him a general healing potion, another for the bruising, and make sure he eats all that chocolate. Use my Floo and get going.”

Having discharged her most seriously injured patient, the witch moved on to the next bed. Severus wrapped the blanket tightly around the shaky teenager and together they Flooed directly to their quarters in the dungeons. Casting a warming charm on a set of pajamas, Severus helped Harry into them, before sitting him down on a chair and handing him two vials of potion to take. Using a towel, he gently dried the wet raven hair, all the while urging his mate to continue eating the chocolate that would ultimately relieve the more prominent effects of his brush with multiple Dementors. Harry’s eyes were half closed and the small burst of energy he had shown in the hospital wing had played out, but the Potions master knew they would have time later to discuss what Harry had discovered about the foul creatures in the Dark Lord’s service.

After settling the younger man into their bed, where he promptly fell asleep, Severus made a quick trip to the end of the corridor, where the Slytherins had gathered in their common room. Noticeably missing were those of his students he had suspected of being loyal to Voldemort. Signaling Blaise Zabini, someone he knew held no loyalty to the evil wizard, Severus put him in charge of overseeing the younger students, and asked him to organize the fifth and sixth year prefects. He decided that he would speak to the students he noted as absent, and quickly cast a spell on the dormitories that would alert him to any unusual activities.

Divesting himself of the damp robes he still wore, Severus slipped into bed and gently pulled his mate back against his chest, luxuriating in the warmth of the younger wizard. Carefully avoiding the areas of bruising, the Potions master turned Harry so that his head lay pillowed on his chest, and pressed a kiss into the top of the soft hair. The teenager snuggled closer, his eyes fluttering open, and he kissed the warm flesh under his head.

“Sev’rus? I think I know how we can kill Voldemort in a way that will prevent him from ever being ‘resurrected’ again again.” Harry’s words were punctuated by a tired yawn.

“Sleep, brat, and we will talk about it after a nap,” Severus told him affectionately.

“Okay,” Harry yawned again. “The only problem is that we will need to capture a Dementor,” he said, as he slid into sleep.

* * *


	23. Dementor Love Potion?

* * *

“One does not simply catch a Dementor, Harry,” Severus told his lover for the third time in ten minutes.

Determination gleamed in the emerald green eyes as the teenager sat quietly on the couch in their quarters. A tea tray sat on the low table between them, and Albus Dumbledore helped himself to another lemon biscuit. Having been released from the hospital wing just an hour ago, against the wishes of the mediwitch, Harry had promised to rest for the afternoon. The bruises he had from both the Dementors and the bludger that had struck him throbbed, but he ignored the pain. It had been determined that the bludger had hit him by accident. The bruising it had caused was spectacular, thought Harry, as he shifted a bit to ease the ache.

“There has to be a way to lure one or two into a trap, Severus, someway to communicate with them. They worked for the Ministry for years, how were they controlled then?”

“Hmm, good question, Albus?” The dark eyes swept to his mentor, who was busy munching on another biscuit.

“I believe there was a central contact the Ministry used, as Dementors have a collective, hive-like mentality which allows them instant communication with the each other.”

“So,” Harry thought out loud, he eyes never leaving the worried face of his bonded, who had risen to pace in front of the merrily burning fire, “if we can lure the Dementor in charge to meet with us, we may not even need to capture one to test.”

“Test what?!” Severus exploded with frustration as he rounded on the Gryffindor, cringing at the tone of his own voice.

Harry looked at him with eyes that sparkled in his pale, bruised face. “A love potion, Professor Potions master, the strongest love potion we can make, with a healthy dose of Pepperup Potion thrown in.”

“What?” Severus said his voice deadly calm.

“A love potion, Severus, a potion that they will try to feed on due to the strong emotion that they feel from it, but one that will hopefully kill them, since they prey on the dark emotions of fear, anger, and hatred. The Pepperup additive should push them over the edge for the very same reason, because it is a mood-lifting as well as a perk-up potion, designed to make everything sunny and warm.”

“And how do you propose we administer this potion, Harry?” Dumbledore looked thoughtful.

“We could spray it from brooms, rather like Muggle farmers use pesticides on crops,” Harry told them, remembering the film he’d seen in shown in school when he was a child. 

“So, if I understand you correctly, this would be more like a Cheering Charm than a love potion,” Severus looked at him carefully. “You are proposing we make a substance that will at least disable the Dementors, and the only side effect for humans would be to cheer them up and make them feel better.”

“Yes,” Harry said excitedly. “Something that will produce the same type of feeling you need to produce a Patronus! The happier, the better, especially since these new Dementors seem to be trying to rip out the heart as well as sucking out the soul.”

“More a potion of love than a true love potion, I think, Severus,” the Headmaster interjected thoughtfully. “The theory is actually very sound, if we can find a way to implement it.” 

Severus stroked his lower lip with a slender, pale finger, his forehead creased in thought. “I might be able to combine a potion designed to alleviate depression with a philtre derived from the endorphins that produce euphoria, and add a cheering charm for good measure during the brewing. It should be simple enough.”

Harry smirked behind him, knowing that his mate was hooked; Severus would not stop until he had created the potion they needed. After requesting that the plan be discussed with no one, the Headmaster took his leave. Harry was quite saddened by the fact that they still suspected a spy somewhere within the ranks of either the Order or the teaching staff of Hogwarts, and stretched out on the sofa to brood. Severus summoned several large books, ink, parchment, and a quill before settling down at one end of the couch, and arranging Harry so that his head was nestled in his lap. The older wizard carded one hand through his husband’s soft raven hair while he searched through his large tomes, and the younger man’s eyes eventually drooped closed.

Over the next two weeks, Severus devoted as much time as he could to perfecting the Dementor potion, with Harry helping prepare the ingredients and Hermione assisting with his research. After a frustrating evening of failed potions, Severus reflected that Harry’s idea of capturing one of the creatures was becoming a more a valid plan than a wild idea, as he had no way of testing the strengths of the different components of the potion he was trying to create. In the meantime, he was careful not to drop his guard when he strode through the hallways and the dungeons.

The Potions master was growing extremely concerned. Someone had passed word to the Dark Lord that he and Harry had bonded, someone in the very limited circle of people who had been privileged to have known. Harry had been experiencing painful twinges in his scar, searing pains that happened frequently and usually left a pounding headache in their wake. The flashes of pain were so brief that Severus was only aware of them as fleeting throbs, but he could feel the residual headaches that lingered in their wake. It was as if Voldemort was consciously Occluding his mind against Harry, having finally realized that the young man was seeing much more than he had been aware. The timing of this had an ominous feel to the Head of Slytherin, and the disquiet he felt grew as they approached All Hallows’ Eve. Too well Severus remembered the Dark Lord’s fascination for that particular day; having reasoned that it was likely the date Harry Potter had been conceived, he had led his attack on the Potters on Halloween with disastrous results. It would not surprise Severus if there was a major attack was planned for this Halloween.

Warmth invaded him as he neared the door to his chambers, and he saw Harry standing in the doorway waiting for him. It was no surprise that Harry would respond with concern after feeling his frustration filter through their bond during the meeting. Severus swept through the door Harry held open, and Harry rolled his eyes as he closed it behind them. Sinking wearily into his chair, Severus felt a kiss pressed to the crown of his head, and a crystal goblet of scotch, neat, appeared at his elbow. Sure fingers settled on his shoulders and began to work out the knots he had acquired stirring cauldrons, and the Potions master relaxed slowly under his lover’s ministrations.

“Your mate is a lucky man, Mister Potter-Snape, but I don’t think he appreciates you. I may have to steal you away from him.”

Harry snorted and leaned forward to kiss Severus on the nose. “I am absolutely devoted to my mate, Professor Snape, and would never think of leaving him. Unless, of course, there were fringe benefits…”

In the blink of an eye, Harry was sprawled across the older man’s lap, and held tightly to the broad chest. Severus bent his head and took his lips, plundering his mouth thoroughly. Harry was panting heavily when they surfaced. 

“Fringe benefits, my brat?” Severus growled, and he swooped back in for a searing kiss. 

“Oh yeah, fringe benefits,” Harry sighed when he was allowed back up for air again, before burying his face in the convenient warm neck.

Pushing the younger man to his feet, Severus picked up his scotch and downed it, shuddering at feeling of the amber liquid burning a path down his throat. Knowing it was already late, he ushered the younger man into the bedroom, where they got ready for bed in a comfortable silence. Both men were exhausted after a long week, and Severus, who fully intended to have a lie-in the next morning, was very glad that it was Friday. Settling into bed, Harry tucked into his side, legs comfortably entwined, the severe Potions master sighed with contentment. This was indeed his favorite place in the world, secure in the embrace of the young man he loved, surrounded by the love of his mate. 

Searing pain split Harry’s scar in two for a heartbeat, and then another, before withdrawing like a red snake slithering through the leaves. Harry’s mind was instantly aware of the intrusion, but instead of pushing it away, a tendril of his magic swallowed the end of the red strand, following it back on its return journey, despite the brutal pain that had his eyes streaming. Imagining his magic covered by his invisibility cloak, Harry held on as the strand of Darkness slunk back into the mind it had originated from, and Harry found he was once again witness to a Death Eater meeting.

“It is but a minor setback, my Lord; we will have everything in place by Samhain…” 

“I will not tolerate excuses, Millard! Crucio!”

The white mask was knocked off as the Death Eater dropped to the floor writhing in pain. Harry, through the haze of sympathetic pain, was astounded to recognize as sixth year Ravenclaw. The pain continued to flay him, and he struggled to stay attached to the link. They were once more in Voldemort’s ‘Throne Room’, with two circles of black-robed, white-masked figures surrounding him. The inner circle seemed to be made up mostly of figures of smaller stature, and Harry knew that these were students who had sneaked out of their Hogwarts dorms for this meeting.

“Lucius, your son does not attend tonight’s meeting.” It was not a question.

A black robe to his immediate right shifted slightly, a flash of white-blond hair showing briefly at the edge of the hood.

“Draco maintains his vigilance at Hogwarts, my Lord, as the traitor Snape has been very active in the past week.”

Harry felt the sharpness of the evil wizard’s anger, intensifying the already unbearable pain. He clung to his tenuous grip on consciousness with all his might as his vision narrowed. 

“When we strike on All Hallows’ Eve, heed my words. Both the traitor and that bloody Potter brat are mine. Do I make myself clear?”

“Completely, my Lord.”

“Crucio!”

Malfoy managed to stand rigidly during the torture. The curse was only lightly applied, causing only enough pain to reinforce Voldemort’s meaning, but it almost took Harry to his figurative knees.

“In the future your son will answer my summons at my discretion, Lucius, not yours. Now, tell me how Snape is occupying his time.”

“Brewing something that takes his entire concentration, my Lord. Curiously, Potter seems to have disappeared from sight, as if he is in hiding.”

“Interesting indeed, Lucius. So close to the fruition of our long-awaited plans, this bears watching. Have Draco concentrate on finding out what is going on.” A booted foot shot out and viciously kicked the prone, unmoving student. “Get them back to Hogwarts…”

The blackness and pain was closing in on Harry, and he did not think he could hold on much longer. Trying to ease back out, he saw a strand of silver and gold magic anchoring him, and he moved toward it, knowing that it was Severus guiding him with their combined magic. Focusing all his remaining strength on the man that he loved, Harry retained his tenuous hold on consciousness as he slid out of the mind of the madman. The excruciating pain released him when he returned fully to his own body, where he could feel his mate wrapped tightly around him.

“Bloody hell, Potter! Don’t you ever do that again, you idiot!” Severus’ voice was gruff from trying to hide the fear he’d felt when he realized what was happening.

Severus held Harry tightly against him, his terror slowly retreating as he checked the younger wizard for any lasting damage or injury, his own head throbbing with reflected pain. With a look that would quell a dragon, the Potions master summoned a vial from the bathroom and held it to Harry’s lips, and he drank without question. The replenishing potion would help restore the massive amount of magical energy it had taken the teenager to maintain the link with the Dark Lord and stay invisible. Slipping out of bed, he dressed quickly in his teaching robes, and bent to kiss Harry’s forehead.

“I need to get a potion for the pain you are feeling. I’ll also let Albus know of these new developments.”

“Aren’t we even going to try and catch Millard and the others as they portkey back?” Harry asked in a quiet voice.

“No, to do so would tip them off that somehow we are aware of their plan of action. I will inform the Headmaster, but I believe he will decide to monitor their activities rather than restrict their movements,” and with a swish of billowing robes, Severus was gone.

As he watched his lover disappear from their bedroom, Harry closed his eyes wearily, feeling the fine tremble in his body. He had come to a horrific conclusion as Severus helped him withdraw from Voldemort’s mind; he had to find a way to destroy the bit of the evil bastard he carried in his scar before he could truly kill Tom Riddle. Whatever had happened that Halloween night sixteen years ago had done more to Harry than just mark him as an equal. Dumbledore had said it back in his second year: the killing curse that had failed to kill him had left a piece of Riddle behind. Harry was afraid it was a piece of the wretched creature’s soul. In order to truly kill Voldemort, Harry would have to destroy his soul, all the pieces of it, even the Dark Marks branding all of the Death Eaters.

The pounding in his head and the aching in his limbs was nothing compared to the agony Harry felt ripping at his heart. In order to kill Voldemort, he had to face the very likely prospect of dying himself; in dying, he would kill the one whom he had come to love more than anything in the world. His life would be an acceptable sacrifice if he accomplished the task, but the thought of his mate’s death was too much to be borne. With an attempt to block his mate’s awareness of his anguish, Harry gave in to his sorrow, allowing deep, shuddering sobs to be wrenched from his chest.

Waves of despair hit Severus as he finished relaying the new information to Dumbledore through the Floo. The Headmaster had suddenly looked his age as he learned that Hogwarts was to be attacked on All Hallows’ Eve, and that even more of their students had chosen the path to Voldemort. He had agreed with the Slytherin's assessment of the situation; the students in question would be put under constant surveillance. A meeting was planned for the flowing afternoon. Ending the conversation, Severus stood, rising stiffly from his kneeling position in front of the fireplace. 

Two vials of pain potion were sitting in the cabinet next to his desk, and Severus tried to interpret the waves of feeling coming through the bond as he retrieved them. He could tell that Harry had tried to dampen the impact of his emotions, but in his weakened state, Severus had no problem breaking through the blockage. The enormity of what his bond-mate was feeling shook the Potions master, and he grabbed the edge of his desk to steady himself. While they had always known that Harry might not survive the final battle, and it had been something they discussed before bonding, the reality of the situation was daunting. With a small, determined smile, Severus pulled himself together, downed one of the vials, and headed into the bedroom to comfort Harry. Pausing only long enough to disrobe, he slid back into bed.

Lean arms drew Harry back against a warm chest, and he instinctively turned, burying his face in the silky skin. One arm held him firmly; the other cupped the back of his head, fingers slowly stroking the tousled hair for a moment before offering Harry the other vial of potion. 

“You blame yourself needlessly, love, for the actions of others and a destiny set for you before you were born. I knew my life was forfeit that night two years ago when you disappeared from the maze during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Shortly afterwards the Dark Mark burned like new on my arm, and my suspicions were confirmed. It was then that I realized the Dark Lord had resurrected himself, and whether I returned as a spy or stayed within the protection that Hogwarts offered, my days were numbered. I chose to attempt to make what time I had mean something, so I returned to the Death Eaters as a spy. Every day since then has been a gift to me, Harry, and I fully expect to die in the near future.”

Harry’s voice was muffed. “If we hadn’t been bound, you might have had a chance.”

Severus gave a humorless laugh. “If we had not bonded when we did, I would have been death within days. You know that. Besides, if what you are thinking is true, then I would have died anyway, along with the rest of the Death Eaters.”

“Is that why none of them died before?” Harry asked, tilting his head back to look at the older man. “Is it because he wasn’t truly dead, that he had left enough of his soul behind that he escaped death?”

“Yes, Albus seems to think so, and he mentioned it at the time, as I recall. After you vanquished the Dark Lord in Godric’s Hollow, the Mark should have disappeared entirely, if it had been a simple fidelity mark. That it merely faded meant the Dark Lord was not truly dead. As it we have discovered, it was indeed a form of soul bond, and each Death Eater will be affected upon his death.”

“Perhaps,” Harry mused aloud, “we can find a spell that would destroy the bit he left in my scar without killing me, and still be able to destroy any remaining pieces of the soul Voldemort has managed to share.”

Severus snorted. “I do believe I see another project with Hermione Granger’s name written all over it.”

“Yes, I think you are right,” Harry said with a smile. “And we only have two weeks in which to find it.” 

Severus gathered his mate closer. “Yes. We will start first thing in the morning, but right now, I intend to show you exactly how much I love you.”

Harry sighed into the mouth that took his in a searing kiss, pushing the last of the chill from his soul. His mind shut off as he felt the hands softly caressing his skin, the incredible feel of their magic combining arousing him like nothing else could. He allowed his hands to slip around the slender waist and stroke the sleekly muscled back and arse, giving himself completely to the ministrations of the man he loved.

* * *


	24. The Battle Ensues

* * *

Violence and tragedy escalated in both the wizarding and Muggle worlds as the followers of Lord Voldemort became more and more violent. An attack on a regional football match in Surrey, which led to the deaths of almost a hundred spectators and players, was attributed to Dementors. The Muggle press explained it as an accident with a hazardous gas tanker that had leaked, causing a cloud of toxic gas to descend on the crowd. There was an increase in attacks on Muggle-born witches’ and wizards’ families; always the Dark Mark was found in the sky over their homes. The Order of the Phoenix had been divided into two groups: those members who worked for the Ministry trying to assist in preventing the murders, and those who kept track of known Death Eaters and their activities. 

The mystery of whether there was a traitor among the couple’s closest friends was solved when it was learned that Ginny Weasley was still corresponding with Percy’s old girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater, and had sprinkled facts of what both the Order as well as those at Hogwarts were doing in her letters. Penelope, it seemed, had been a good little wife, and had shared the letters with her husband, Marcus Flint. Unfortunately, Flint was a Death Eater in good standing, thanks to his wife. He had been apprehended when Aurors protecting the Marchbanks family had interrupted an attack, and would spend the rest of his days in Azkaban.

It had also become readily apparent that the Ministry of Magic was a mass of conflicting loyalties. Like the greater magical community, most Ministry employees had lost faith in Cornelius Fudge’s ability to lead. Fudge, in his incompetence, had turned a deaf ear to Dumbledore’s request for extra security over the coming holiday. The Headmaster had cited the incident at the Quidditch match in making his request, but the former Hufflepuff insisted that they had already driven away the Dementors, and thus they had no need for additional assistance. A movement was underway to replace the Minister in a special meeting of the entire Wizengamot, but it was scheduled for the first week of November, and would not deliver any of the needed help in time for Halloween.

Hermione had been single-minded in researching a spell that might destroy the piece of Tom Riddle’s soul they suspected was lodged in Harry’s scar; Severus had been no less so in his potion-making. It wasn’t until the weekend prior to Halloween that the Potions master felt he had perfected the topical potion they would use against the Dementors, the equivalent to a liquid Patronus. The potion itself was complex but not difficult to brew, and in the three days leading up to Samhaim, every N.E.W.T potions class brewed it. In each class, the potion was given a different name, so any would-be Death Eaters in the group would not know what they were creating.

The members of the Order who were currently in residence at Hogwarts kept Draco Malfoy, Jack Millard, and the others who were known Death Eaters under constant surveillance. Their illegal portkeys, which had apparently been transporting them from the gates of Hogwarts to Voldemort’s side when they were summoned, were confiscated under the guise of Argus Filch searching for illegal magical items, as re-usable portkeys emitted a magical signal. Surprisingly, Slytherins Tracey Davis, Daphnee Greengrass, and Graham Pritchard had sought out their Head of House independently, and under Veritaserum, declared their loyalty to the Light forces and offered to keep an eye on the others. 

Severus was exhausted, and spent the last two days before Halloween teaching, brewing, and sleeping, with his young husband leaving his side only for his own classes. Firmly Occluded against any outside influence, they had both agreed to take a mild version of Dreamless Sleep Potion, in addition to consuming supplemental nutrition potions in place of the meals they both seemed to miss with far too much regularity. Dobby and the house-elves had been charged with keeping watch over the Potions master, as well as keeping an eye out for suspicious activity. 

Harry had insisted on helping wherever he was needed, while continuing his studies and special defense training with Remus and Kingsley Shacklebolt. In between his other activities, he tutored special DA sessions, teaching all the third years and above the Patronus Charm to protect themselves against Dementors. Whenever Severus took nighttime patrols, Harry accompanied him, insisting that two pairs of eyes were better than one. When they fell into bed at night, Harry clung to his husband, ashamed that he was so needy, but unable to help himself. 

At dawn on Halloween, Harry, dressed in ceremonial robes, found himself standing in a dusty stone chamber with Albus Dumbledore and the four Heads of House. There had been several attempts in the past several days to weaken the magical fields that protected the castle and all its inhabitants. This room, its walls covered in ancient Celtic runes, its ceiling adorned with Gaelic script, was the very heart of Hogwarts, and Harry could feel the magic that flowed through it. He had been asked to use his magical power to strengthen the wards, to which he had readily agreed. 

Standing between Severus and the Headmaster, Harry chanted his part of the ritual in the ancient tongue of the first witches and wizards to inhabit the Isle of Man. Dumbledore had started the chant, standing in a circle in the center of the room, and was joined in turn by the living representatives of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each of the Heads wove a strand of colored magic into a web; red, yellow, blue, and green joined golden strand the Headmaster had started. Harry completed the circle, pure white light shooting from his wand to bind all the other strands together. His magic was so pure and bright that everyone shielded their eyes as the ancient chant ended and the pulsating web of magic was absorbed into the very walls of the castle.

Poppy Pomfrey was waiting for all of them in the passageway outside and pressed a vial of Pepperup Potion into each of their hands. Even after heading down to the dungeons to change, Harry and Severus were still able to make it to the Great Hall in time for breakfast. The potion and the emotional high got them through until lunch, when Harry returned to the rooms he shared with his husband and collapsed on the sofa. Severus found him there minutes later, struggling to stay awake.

Extending a hand, Severus ran it through the silky cap of tousled hair. “Come, love, I think we need a bit of a nap more than we need lunch at this point.”

The teenager did not protest, allowing himself to be helped to his feet and pulled into the bedroom, then undressed with warm, caressing hands. Severus smiled as he slid into bed next to Harry, wrapping his arms around the slender form. Leaning closer to take the full lips in a gentle kiss, Severus was surprised as his husband slid his hands in his hair and proceeded to devour his mouth.

“Please, Severus, love me! I need to feel you!” Harry pleaded, arching against him.

With a soft smile, the older wizard cupped his hand around the back of his husband’s head, fingers sliding through the soft strands, and kissed him hungrily. Their magic flared along their entwined bodies, and incredible feelings aroused them both to a fevered pitch as hands stroked, teased, and stretched. Pushing into the hot velvet of his mate, Severus could only gasp at the perfection as he was fully sheathed, the magic humming around him as he pulled back and thrust in again. Neither of them lasted long, the intense feelings racing through their bodies to push them over the edge to an incredible, shared climax.

Harry snuggled into the warm arms, a single tear running down his cheek. Neither of them knew what this night would bring, or whether they or their friends would survive. The uncertainty of the situation weighed heavily on the young Gryffindor, but he knew he had to push that doubt to the back of his mind; he could not allow it to distract him from what his task. The strong arms that held him tightened fractionally, and Harry made an effort to bank his feelings. Relaxing into the comforting warmth, the teenager slid into a dreamless sleep.

The couple slept through lunch and the free period they shared. Severus gently shook Harry awake shortly before his next class. Grabbing a sandwich off the tray that appeared on the table, Harry dressed carefully, donning black denim jeans, black long sleeve turtleneck, his school uniform shirt, and his school robes. A set of dueling robes, spelled to deflect most common spells and hexes, were folded in his bag, as was his invisibility cloak. His husband also had his set of robes close at hand, in the event the attack came early. Voldemort was known to favor attacking near moonrise, but the Potions master was taking no chances.

The sun hung in the sky over the lake, marking its route to becoming a ball of fiery glory as it approached the horizon. Decorations were going up in the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast. Harry stood nervously at the top of the marble staircase, looking down across the deserted Entrance Hall. Severus had sent him out of Potions early after he finished the quiz they were taking in record time. His mate was aware of the restlessness that was keeping him from concentrating and had dismissed him with a gentle nudge through their bond. 

Without conscious thought, his feet took him across the empty floor and out the great oak doors to stand at the top of the lawns. Down past Hagrid’s hut, he could see a group of fifth years gathered around the huge wooden table, gazing at a pile of bowtruckles as the half-giant gestured with his hands. To his right, Harry could hear the faint murmur of voices coming from the direction of the greenhouses, which were surely filled with students at this time of day. As he scanned back across the grounds toward the Quidditch pitch, Harry could see nothing amiss in the absolute stillness of the late afternoon.

Harry took a step down the sloped grass, the silence pressing in on him as he realized that all natural sound had stopped. The birds had ceased their twittering and chirping, and the insects had fallen silent. Looking up, he felt a sliver of cold dread race down his spine. There, on the edge of the western horizon, coming out of the glare of the sun, was a black form. As the teenager watched, another and then another joined the first, hovering at the far edge of the Forbidden Forest as if waiting for a signal.

Harry pulled a galleon from his pocket and tapped it twice, as he opened the bond with him mate. 

~ _Severus, there are Dementors at the edge of the Forest!_ ~ 

~ _Get back inside the castle, Harry! Now!_ ~ Came a strained reply.

~ _As soon as the other students are in from the greenhouses! Sev, I love you!_ ~

A group of first years came hurtling down the path from their Herbology lesson, with plump Professor Sprout urging them into the castle. Harry was very glad they had given the teachers galleons like those the DA still carried. As the youngsters ran past him, Harry could see Hagrid ushering his students into his hut, no doubt Flooing them back to their common rooms from his fireplace. There was the sound of organized chaos from behind him, and Harry was sure other teachers or DA members were now filling the Entrance Hall. 

Hermione appeared suddenly at his side, with Ron on his other, both quickly spotting the cloud of black still building on the horizon. Within minutes other members of the DA stood beside them, two-dozen strong, with brooms in hand. Ginny Weasley, who had been put in charge of the aerial group, moved to the front and stood beside her brother. 

“The hardest part is going to be waiting until they are close enough to deploy the potion,” Harry said calmly, ignoring the fine tremors in his legs. “Everyone have their special enchanted sprayers?”

Each of the DA acknowledged his question by holding up their brooms, so he could see the magical device Professor Flitwick had charmed to the back of their brooms: what looked like the spray nozzle from a hosepipe was buried in the twigs. He nodded and flashed what he hoped was a confident smile at them. With a nod, Ginny gathered her troops and headed across the lawn towards the pitch, as if there were a regular practice scheduled. They hoped it would fool anyone who might be watching Hogwarts from the Forest. 

Harry stood silently watching them walk away, his insides squirming. Reassurance once more trickled through the bond, as did a feeling of minor success. Severus and the other Heads of House were securing the younger students into the far dungeon classrooms that had been deemed the safest place in the castle. Third years and below would be locked there with a prefect from each of the Houses to oversee and guard them. Members of the Order of the Phoenix, including most of the Weasley family, Remus, Tonks, and Moody, had tracked the known Death Eaters among the students once they had left their dorms this morning. They were to be stunned and bound before being locked into another room, so they could not fulfill the suspected plot to bring down part of the protective fields that surrounded the castle.

~ _Harry, Millard managed to get away, and the wards protecting the grounds along the Forbidden Forest in the area of the Whomping Willow have been compromised._ ~ 

Severus’ voice was calm, but carried an urgency that made Harry immediately turn toward the tree that had been planted on the grounds when his husband and parents were students. The line of black along the horizon had begun to approach the castle, and Harry pulled his galleon, tapping it again to let Ginny and the others know the Dementors were moving. As he scanned the edge of the trees, Harry heard Hermione gasp and grab his arm. Several black-robed figures had appeared.

~ _Dementors from the west, Sev, and Death Eaters at the edge of the Forest!_ ~

~ _Stay right where you are, we are on our way!_ ~

~ _Is the Shrieking Shack protected?_ ~

~,i>Yes, the Weasley twins are there.~ Severus’ reply was tinged with amusement.

The broom riders had started criss-crossing in front of the path the Dementors were taking to the castle, no doubt hoping to either find the wards down or to overwhelm them. Harry stepped down along the slope, where he had a clear view of both sets of approaching enemies. There were more sounds of Apparition, then a solid mass of black-clad figures started moving towards the castle, sweeping past Hagrid’s hut, setting it afire with multiple hexes. 

The air grew colder with the rapid approach of the Dementors, and Harry could see the potion hanging in the air like a mist. The teenagers on brooms were making their way back toward the castle, still spraying potion behind them, and several Dementors shot forward as if to intercept them. Whipping his wand up, Harry thought of the deep love he felt for Severus and their friends.

“ _Expecto Patronum_!”

The stag that leapt from the end of his wand was huge, and it moved with lightning speed through the air toward the approaching Dementors. Beside him, he could hear others joining in, and other silvery shapes surged forward to protect those in the air. Just as the first of the soul-sucking beings hit the cloud of mist, Harry’s forehead was suddenly split with searing pain. He staggered forward, almost falling to his knees before Ron grabbed him by the elbow. Occluding his mind, sealing off as much as he could, he whispered.

“He’s here.”

No one asked him whom he meant, they all knew. The group spread out, the teachers having joined the DA to take up defensive positions along the front of the ancient battlements. Albus Dumbledore appeared at Harry’s left and Severus was on his right, pressing a small vial into his hand.

“I think it will deaden the pain in your scar,” he said, before he turned to deflect a curse. The Death Eaters had come close enough for their hexes to reach Hogwarts’ defenders.

The battle was fierce, hexes and curses flying thickly through the air as the sun turned bright red on its approach to the horizon. Conjuring a shield, Harry fought hard, evading most of what was aimed at him, although a slashing hex had caught him on one thigh and a whip-flame spell, which he had never seen before, had singed his face. His sear throbbed dully as a reminder of the Dark Lord’s presence, but the potion his mate had given him took the brutal edge off the pain. He could feel the bond between them pulse, and knew Severus was still all right. The line of defense had several minor breeches in it, pushing the defenders into groups who dueled back to back.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a figure with bushy brown hair fall several meters away, and with a surge of power he Apparated to Hermione’s side and stunned the Death Eater standing over her. A high, cruel laugh told him he had just walked into a trap; a ring of black-robed figures cut him off from the main battle, leaving him isolated as he stood over his best friend’s prone body. A tall, skeletal figure stepped forward, red eyes gleaming in the rapidly approaching dusk, and Harry’s head seared with pain once more.

“Hello, Tom,” he said calmly, his wand held loosely in front of him, knowing that this was the moment of his destiny.

A hiss of rage greeted his words, and Voldemort wordlessly threw a curse at him. Harry deflected it, leaning quickly to one side as the curse hit one of the Death Eaters. The circle around him tightened.

“What’s wrong, Tom? Can’t take care of me yourself, without your cronies breathing down my neck?” Harry sidestepped a jet of purple spell-light, sensing it coming from behind him.

“Get back, all of you!” Voldemort snarled. “Dumbledore is not here to protect you now, Potter! I will have the pleasure of killing you, and then killing your traitorous bond-mate. Perhaps I will have some fun with Severus before I kill him…”

Harry could not help but think that Voldemort’s habit of boasting and talking in battle was stupid; pandering to his own ego was the reason Harry had time to start the incantation for the ancient spell Hermione had found just two days before in an obscure tome on Dark Magic. Focusing on his words and making wand movements similar to stirring a cauldron, Harry ignored the insults being thrown, and managed to complete the spell. He whipped his wand up, surrounding Voldemort in an electric blue haze just as the green spell-light of the Killing Curse brushed his left arm. Harry spun away from it, darkness edging the periphery of his sight, and he cast one last spell before his world went black.

* * *

The red strand of magic pulled at him, the edges tinged in black, and Harry could feel it grab hold of a golden strand of his magic and tug mightily. Weakened by the battle and the Killing Curse, he struggled not to be pulled into the death spasms of Voldemort’s soul. Summoning all his power and focusing on the love he felt, Harry fought the pull. Despite his efforts, he was slowly being drawn out of his being when he became aware of another presence. Severus. Grabbing hold of the love extended to him, suddenly Harry felt an immense strength flow through him, and he pulled back, out of the grasp of the evil soul that sought to consume him. Everything dissolved into darkness once more.

His head thudded painfully each time his heart beat, but Harry mused that it was a good thing, because it meant that he was still alive. Warmth surrounded him. His body felt as if it was afloat, and his mind struggled to figure out where he was. Harry tried to move, only to have pain rip through his body and steal his breath. His pillow moved slightly, and Harry could feel a hand card gently through his hair.

“Breathe, love, slowly. In and out,” a beloved voice told him, and Harry smiled.

“Sev…”

“I am right here, Harry, and I am not leaving, so just relax.”

The darkness took him again, and when Harry next woke he had no idea how long he had been out. Careful not to move at all, since he could still feel a deep ache in his body, he was pleased to note that his head hurt less than he remembered last time he was awake. He gingerly opened his eyes to see that the room around him was dark, a single torch burning somewhere along the wall creating shadows on the walls in various shades of gray. By the smell, he guessed he was still in the hospital wing. The warmth of the ‘pillow’ beneath his head confirmed that Severus was still there. 

Harry tried to move his head, but a flare of searing pain told him that was a bad idea. A gentle hand settled on his forehead in response to his moan.

“Don’t try to move, Harry,” Hermione whispered in his ear. “Let me go get Madam Pomfrey.”

“Sev’rus?” Harry forced out through his parched lips.

“I am fine, Harry,” his husband told him quietly. “Hermione was just letting me sleep.”

A torch flared to life near the bed, and Harry blinked in the sudden glow. He felt the older wizard move fractionally before a pair of glasses settled onto his nose and the world came into focus. A goblet was pressed to his lips, but he was only allowed enough water to wet his mouth and throat. Harry groaned in dismay when the goblet was withdrawn.

“Let Poppy check you over, love, and then I will give you some more,” Severus told him huskily, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “You have been unconscious for three days.”

The matron bustled over, her dressing gown pulled tight around her as she waved her wand over him, fussing and clucking. With a flick of her wand, three vials of potions sailed into her hand, and Harry obediently opened his mouth to swallow. A fourth vial, which he recognized as Dreamless Sleep Potion, was set on the bedside table. The ache lessened enough for him to try and turn into Severus. There was an emptiness that seemed to permeate him, and it took him a moment to recognize what it was.

“Severus, what happened to our bond?” Harry tried not to panic as he struggled to sit up.

“Sshhh, Harry, calm down,” the Potions master said. He held his mate firmly, rearranging their bodies enough so that Harry could see his face. “You have been in tremendous pain, and Poppy did not think the pain of my injuries would help with your healing, so I temporarily blocked our bond.”

“Please, release it, Sev,” Harry asked quietly. “I need it.”

The obsidian eyes glanced up at the mediwitch who still stood beside the bed, and then closed. Slowly, Harry felt the block being released, and his mate’s emotions came flooding through. Relief that he was awake, joy, grief, and pain all crowded in. A hand carded through his hair as Severus began to interpret some of the emotions he was suddenly assaulted with, and both struggled to keep from being overwhelmed. Knowing Harry had no idea of the ultimate outcome of the battle, Severus began to quietly tell him what had happened.

They had won the final battle, but at a price. The Killing Curse had brushed Harry just as he had cast the spell to destroy all of Voldemort’s soul, including the piece transferred to him when he was an infant. Severus described the agony of feeling Harry slip away from him as he stunned Bellatrix Lestrange, and how he had withdrawn inside himself to help his bond-mate. He was hit by several hexes before Dumbledore could shield him. Hermione had regained consciousness in time to protect Harry from the few remaining Death Eaters. By the time the Ministry Aurors had finally arrived to assist, the battle was over and Voldemort’s body was simply a pile of ash on the green grass.

The Dementor Repelling Potion had worked wonderfully, and all of the aerial forces of the DA had made it safely back to the ground, thanks to the many Patroni of Harry and the others. The fierce fighting on the ground had caused many injuries and several student deaths: Dennis Creevey, Zacharias Smith, Megan Jones, and Jack Millard. Draco Malfoy was found barely alive after the rest of the prisoners had been removed from their temporary cell, but no one was quite sure what had happened. Charlie Weasley had been gravely injured and was in St Mungo’s surrounded by his family, not expected to live. Mad-Eye Moody had succumbed to the injuries he had received just that morning. 

“You almost died, brat, which would have been unacceptable to me,” the silky voice whispered huskily in his ear before taking Harry’s lips in a searing kiss. “The Killing Curse brushed your left arm and shoulder, which had been damaged previously by the Killing Curse, in the battle at the Hogsmeade Station. They have been magically bound to your side in an effort to help them heal and keep you from losing the arm. Fighting the link with Voldemort seriously depleted your magic, but Poppy thinks you will recover completely in time. For now, you are not allowed to use any magic until Poppy gives you permission!”

Harry smiled at the order, his eyelids suddenly extremely heavy. “Yes, dear,” he muttered as he slid comfortably back into the warm darkness.

* * *

The next two weeks were an exhausting whirl of activity for the pair, starting with the memorial service held for those lost in the assault on Hogwarts. Harry insisted on going, his left arm still in a sling, allowing Severus to tandem Apparate them to the service at the Ministry. The grief hit him full force again as he saw the wizarding photographs that lined one wall, moving images of the students he’d known for so many years, his adopted brother, and Moody there among the others. As he moved to sit in the front row alongside other members of the Weasley family, Harry’s feelings of guilt at not being able to stop the evil bastard before he could take so many fine people from their loved ones choked him.

~ _Don’t diminish their sacrifice for those they loved, Harry, by feeling that they died in vain._ ~ Severus’ quiet thought filtered through their bond, and the arm around his waist tightened in response to the tears sliding silently down Harry’s face.

The formal ball to celebrate the defeat of Voldemort was held at Hogwarts at the insistence of Albus Dumbledore, who knew that Harry loathed the idea of being a spectacle. The Minister of Magic had balked initially, until a fiercely scowling ex-Death Eater growled that his husband was not stepping foot outside the castle, so if anyone wanted Harry to be there, it would be held in the Great Hall. The young savior was still recuperating from his injuries and was not up to anything but a brief appearance close to home. Fudge capitulated bad-temperedly, storming out of the Headmaster’s office with his contingent of flunkies trailing him.

The Heroes’ Ball, held exactly two weeks after the final battle, was a lively affair. The Weird Sisters provided the music, and dancing was preceded by pretentious speeches made by pompous politicians. The house-elves had surpassed themselves in creating a dinner with a variety of international cuisine to match the make-up of those who had fought on the side of Light. Harry ate as much as he could, although the glare of sitting at the Head table with Fudge on one side of him robbed him of most of his appetite. Severus surreptitiously ladled a spoonful of creamy shrimp pasta onto his plate to tempt him, and the younger wizard smiled at him, trying it before decided he liked it. 

The Head of Slytherin lead the Gryffindor Golden boy onto the dance floor as the music began, gathering the younger man into his arms. The tune was lively, but Severus led him slowly along the edge of the floor, Harry’s formal robes the color of a shallow stretch of a tropical ocean. The sea-foam green was a repeated in the trim of the Potions master’s black velvet robes. Leaning against his mate, Harry looped his still-sore left arm around the slender waist, while his right hand was clasped firmly in the older man’s hand nestled between their bodies. They swayed gently to a beat of their own as the other dancers whirled around them.

“Severus?”

“Hmmm?”

“I don’t think I want to be an Auror anymore,” Harry told him quietly.

The hand that had been properly placed at the middle of his back shifted, and Harry smiled into the front of Severus’ robes as that hand tugged him closer. 

“What would you like to do?” The silky voice breathed into his ear.

“Eventually I would like to have children, a family of our own, with all that encompasses, and spend some time traveling when we are ready,” Harry told him with a smile, following the taller man’s lead. “More immediately, Hermione has found an accelerated program at the Wizarding University of Edinburgh in which I could earn my teaching certificate in two years, depending on how well I do on my N.E.W.Ts.”

Harry lifted his head and looked up into the obsidian eyes of the man who meant everything to him. “I felt that I accomplished the most good fifth year, when I was teaching the DA. Do you think the Headmaster would allow me to apprentice for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position?”

A smile flirted at the corners of the stoic man’s lips. “I am certain he could be persuaded, as I have already approached him to resurrect the apprentice program the Founders originally put into place at Hogwarts.”

“I see Hermione has already approached you about her Potions mastery.”

“Indeed,” Severus released his right hand, pressing Harry’s face back against his shoulder before looping both arms around him. “I suppose this means I must marry you quickly, before some young, gorgeous university student tries to steal you from me.”

* * *

The nuptials were held Christmas Eve in the beautifully decorated Great Hall, with only the couple’s closest friends as witnesses. Albus Dumbledore officiated, combining Muggle wedding vows, a Celtic bonding ritual, and a joining ceremony once used by the Druids in a sweet and sentimental rite that left Harry and most of the female attendees in tears. Severus would never admit to any frivolous emotion, but he could not help but feel the tightening in his chest as he slipped his ring on his husband’s finger with trembling hands and pledged his love to the younger man. 

A portkey to paradise was their wedding gift from Albus Dumbledore, and neither of them bothered to pack any clothing, as there was no need for them on an isolated island in the middle of the South Pacific.

* * *

****

Finite


End file.
